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309.173 


BOOK    309.  173.C636Y   c.  1 
COBBETT    #    YEARS    RESIDENCE    IN 
AMERICA 


3    T153    00077553    A 


THE  ABBEY  CLASSICS— V 


WILLIAM  COBBETT 


A  YEARS  RESIDENCE  IN 
AMERICA 


Published  hySM/ILLMrtYtVlRD  SCOMJ^MYMc 
__ at -&lAfount\ernon  Street,  Boston ,  J^fass. 


x.-  vO 


\\V± 


Made  in  Great  Britain. 


CONTENTS 

Introduction 

General  Preface  to  the  Three  Parts 


Page 
ix 

xvii 


PART  I 

Chap.  I.  Description  of  the  Situation  and  Extent 
of  Long  Island,  and  also  of  the  Face 
of  the  Country,  and  an  Account  of 
the  Climate,  Seasons,  and  Soil 

II.  Ruta  Baga.  Culture,  Mode  of  pre- 
serving, and  Uses  of  the  Ruta  Baga, 
sometimes  called  the  Russia,  and 
sometimes  the  Swedish,  Turnip 


40 


Dedication 

Preface 

Chap. 


III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 
XI. 


*> 

o* 


PART  II 


Experiments  as  to  Cabbages 
Earth-burning    . 
Transplanting  Indian  Corn  . 
Swedish  Turnips 
Potatoes     .... 
Cows,  Sheep,  Hogs,  and  Poultry 
Prices  of  Land,  Labour,  Food  and 

Raiment  .... 
Expences  of  Housekeeping  . 
Manners,  Customs,  and  Character 

of  the  People    . 


83 
85 

§9 

101 
106 

in 
122 

134 

141 
146 

153 


CONTENTS 


Page 
Chap.       XII.    Rural  Sports      .         .         .         .162 

XIII.     Paupers  ....       168 

XIV.     Government,  Laws,  and  Religion  .       173 

PART  III 

Dedication         .......       195 

Preface      ........       197 

Mr.  Hulme's  Introduction  to  his  Journal        .  .       199 

Mr.  Hulme's  Journal,  made  during  a  Tour  in  the 
Western  Countries  of  America,  in  which  Tour  he 
visited  Mr.  Birkbeck's  Settlement    .         .         .       205 

Mr.  Cobbett's  Letters  to  Mr.  Birkbeck,  remon- 
strating with  that  Gentleman  on  the  numerous 
delusions,  contained  in  his  two  publications, 
entitled  "  Notes  on  a  Journey  in  America  "  and 
"  Letters  from  Illinois  "  .  .  .  .       235 

Postscript,  being  the  detail  of  an  experiment  made 

in  the  cultivation  of  the  Ruta  Baga    .  .  .270 

Second  Postscript,  a  Refutation  of  Fearon's  False- 
hoods   ........       272 


PART  I 


I 

A  sort  of  spy,  as  Cobbett  called  him,  Henry  Bradshaw  Fearon, 
an  English  radical,  who  called  on  Cobbett  at  his  farm  at  Hyde 
Park,  twenty  miles  from  New  York,  gave  a  sketch  of  "  this  well- 
known  character,"  his  host  : 

"A  print  by  Bartolozzi,  executed  in  1801,  conveys  a  correct 
outline  of  his  person.  His  eyes  are  small,  and  pleasingly 
good-natured.  To  a  French  gentleman  present,  he  was 
attentive  ;  with  his  sons,  familiar  ;  to  his  servants,  easy, 
but  to  all,  in  his  tone  and  manner,  resolute  and  determined. 
He  feels  no  hesitation  in  praising  himself,  and  evidently 
believes  that  he  is  eventually  destined  to  be  the  Atlas  of 
the  British  nation.     His  faculty  in  relating  anecdotes  is 

amusing My    impressions    of   Mr.    Cobbett    are, 

that  those  who  know  him  would  like  him  if  they  can  be 
content  to  submit  unconditionally  to  his  dictation.  '  Obey 
me  and  I  will  treat  you  kindly  ;  if  you  do  not,  I  will 
trample  on  you,'  seemed  visible  in  every  word  and  feature. 
He  appears  to  feel,  in  its  fullest  force  the  sentiment  : 

I  have  no  brother,  am  like  no  brother  : 
I  am  myself  alone." 

Fearon  had  published  a  volume  called  Sketches  in  America,  and 
in  his  relation  of  this  visit  to  Cobbett  he  included  a  report  of  certain 
reflections  attributed  to  his  host  and  likely  to  give  offence  to 
Americans.  These  reflections,  and  Cobbett's  ferocious  repudia- 
tion, are  to  be  found  in  the  second  postscript  to  Part  III  of  the 
present  volume  ;  but  you  will  not  find  there  any  repudiation  of 
this  excellent  brief  sketch.  Cobbett,  it  may  be  surmised,  was 
not  displeased  with  it,  and  indeed  it  is  perfectly  consistent  not 
simply  with  the  many  portraits  and  cartoons  which  mirror  the 
outward  man,  but  also  with  the  inward  man  presented  so  fully, 
so  freshly,  so  garrulously  in  Cobbett's  own  books.  '  A  blade  I 
took  for  a  decent  tailor,  my  son  William  for  a  shopkeeper's  clerk, 
and  Mrs.  Churcher,  with  less  charity,  for  a  slippery  young  man, 
or,  at  best,  for  an  Exciseman,'  is  his  scornful  sketch  of  poor 
Fearon  ;  truly  a  harsh  return  for  the  amiable  portrait  drawn  by 
the  young  Radical  author. 


INTRODUCTION 


ii 

I 

Cobbett's  residence  in  America,  fron-11817  to  1819,  which  forms 
the  subject  of  the  present  volume,  was  not  his  first  sojourn  in  the 
western  hemisphere.  He  had  served  in  the  British  Army  in  New 
Brunswick  and  returned  with  his  regiment  in  1791  ;  and  after 
his  discharge,  made  grave  allegations  of  corruption  against  certain 
officers  of  his  late  regiment.  Fearing  an  unequal  trial  and  per- 
sonal danger,  he  had  fled  from  England  when  a  court-martial  was 
about  to  investigate  his  charges,  and  from  1792  to  1800  he  lived 
in  the  United  States,  practising  there  that  free  and  furious  in- 
vective which  was  a  main  element  of  his  controversial  method, 
and  only  leaving  when  he  was  nearly  ruined  by  the  damages 
awarded  against  him  for  libel.  The  noise  of  his  contention  was 
heard  across  the  Atlantic,  and  when  he  landed  at  Falmouth  in  the 
summer  of  1800,  he  found  himself  poor  and  famous.  Windham 
soon  acclaimed  him  as  a  man  who  by  his  unaided  exertions  had 
rendered  his  country  services  that  entitled  him  to  a  statue  of  gold, 
and  encouraged  him  in  the  foundation  of  the  notorious  Political 
Register,  which  shortly  proved  to  be  a  deep  well  of  money  for  its 
energetic  owner.  But  not  many  years  elapsed  before  Cobbett's 
inconstancy  betrayed  itself,  although  without  betraying  his 
honesty  ;  his  political  opinions  changed  until  the  Tory  was  lost 
in  the  Radical.  The  simple  truth  was  that  he  could  not  endure 
to  give  continuous  approval  to  any  man  or  party,  and  was  naturally 
in  opposition  and  naturally  the  champion  of  the  weaker  many, 
though  never  of  a  hopeless  minority.  He  found  it  possible  to 
vary  the  life  of  a  pamphleteer  with  the  life  of  a  farmer,  having 
bought  (in  1805)  a  farm  at  Botley  in  Hampshire,  and  spending 
lavishly  there  the  money  won  by  his  popular  journalism.  "  A 
born  agitator"  would  be  our  ready  phrase  for  a  Cobbett  of  to-day, 
if  we  chose  to  forget  how  much  more  than  an  agitator  was  the 
author  of  this  volume.  He  preserved  a  certain  caution  in  his 
political  work  until  the  Peninsular  war  sharpened  his  animosity 
to  the  government.  That  animosity  was  violently  expressed, 
but  the  government,  that  both  hated  and  feared  him,  found  no 
very  plausible  occasion  for  a  prosecution  until  1809,  when  he 
became  infuriated  on  hearing  of  the  flogging  of  English  Militia 
by  German  troops  : 

"The  mutiny  among  the  local  militia  which  broke  out  at 
Ely,  was  fortunately  suppressed  on  Wednesday  by  the 
arrival  of  four  squadrons  of  the  German  Legion  Cavalry 
from  Bury,  under  the  command  of  General  Auckland. 
Five  of  the  ring-leaders  were  tried  by  court-martial,  and 
sentenced  to  receive  five  hundred  lashes  each,  part  of  which 
punishment  they  received  on  Wednesday,  and  a  part  was 


INTRODUCTION 


remitted.  A  stoppage  for  their  knapsacks  was  the  ground 
of  complaint  that  excited  this  mutinous  spirit,  which 
occasioned  the  men  to  surround  their  officers,  and  demand 
what  they  deemed  their  arrears.  The  first  division  of  the 
German  Legion  halted  yesterday  at  Newmarket  on  their 
return  to  Bury." 

Cobbett  commented  on  this  in  his  Register  with  such  quick  and 
honourable  anger,  such  intense  contempt  for  wanton  authority, 
that  action  was  tardily  taken  against  him.  His  defence  was  far 
less  gallant  and  effective  than  his  attack  had  been  ;  he  was  con- 
victed, condemned  to  two  years'  imprisonment,  to  pay  a  fine  of  a 
thousand  pounds,  and  at  the  end  of  his  imprisonment  to  give 
heavy  bail  and  find  sureties  for  his  keeping  the  peace  for  seven 
years.  Prison  life  in  Newgate,  mitigated  as  it  was  by  means, 
industry  and  the  kindness  of  friends,  was  a  sore  experience,  and 
it  is  wonderful  that  the  violent- minded  victim  was  not  more 
embittered  than  his  subsequent  writings  reveal. 

On  his  release  from  prison  in  1812,  Cobbett  was  entertained 
like  a  martyr  restored  from  the  flames.  He  had  maintained  an 
incredible  literary  activity  during  his  two  years'  imprisonment  ; 
he  boasted  of  it  with  characteristic  self-satisfaction — most 
lengthily  and  amusingly  in  his  Advice  to  Young  Men — and  now 
he  emerged  once  more  into  the  sun  of  men's  attention.  His 
mind  was  flattered  and  quickened.  The  bond  for  seven  years' 
keeping  the  peace  restrained  his  ardour,  but  he  could  not  be 
pacific  in  the  face  of  tyranny,  nor  timid  at  the  sight  of  power  ; 
and  he  soon  began  moving  about  the  country  (much  in  the  way  of 
his  more  famous  Rural  Rides  which  followed,  in  1821,  his  second 
return  from  the  United  States),  and  addressing  an  exasperated 
and  expectant  people.  His  boldness  and  readiness  in  public 
controversy  are  amusing,  and  it  was  in  one  of  his  meetings  with 
county  freeholders  that  he  dealt  thus  with  an  opponent : 

"  I  fixed  my  eye  upon  him,  and  pointing  my  hand  down- 
right, and  making  a  sort  of  chastising  motion,  said  '  Peace, 
babbling  slave  !  '  which  produced  such  terror  amongst 
others,  that  I  met  with  no  more  interruption." 

A  result  of  these  journeys  was  the  revived  prosperity  of  the 
Register  and,  in  1816,  the  issue  of  a  twopenny  edition  (Cobbett's 
Tzvopenny  Trash)  for  the  enlightenment  of  the  masses. 

Parliament  was  now  the  enemy  against  which  his  most  powerful 
blows  were  aimed.  The  cause  of  the  present  discontents  he 
asserted  was  the  taxes,  and  this  intolerable  taxation  proceeded 
in  turn  from  the  want  of  Parliamentary  Reform.  At  the  time  of 
the  Luddite  agitation  he  deprecated  violence,  and  was  candid 
enough  to  tell  his  audience  that  there  was  no  solid  objection  to 
the  use  of  machinery  ;   machines  distinguished  the  civil  from  the 


INTRODUCTION 


savage  man,  and  the  abolition  of  machinery  would  make  life 
impossible.  But  notwithstanding  such  moderate  counsels  his 
position  as  champion  of  the  labourers  of  England  was  a  dangerous 
one  ;  for  his  followers  were  excitable  and  desperate.  At  the  end 
of  1816,  when  rioting  began  in  London,  in  the  boldness  of  panic 
the  government  passed  several  emergency  statutes,  including  one 
suspending  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act.  Cobbett's  seven  years  of 
pledged  good  behaviour  had  not  yet  expired,  and  under  this  new 
and  ominous  power  he  could  be  thrown  into  prison  at  the  whim 
of  any  timid  or  ambitious  underling  ;  and  since  his  plain  courage 
was  always  dashed  with  prudence,  early  in  18 17  he  once  more 
fled  from  England,  writing  in  a  farewell  to  his  readers  from 
Liverpool  : 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  write  libels.  I  have  written  none 
here.  Lord  Sidmouth  was  '  sorry  to  say  '  that  I  had  not 
written  anything  that  the  Law  Officers  could  prosecute 
with  any  chance  of  success.  I  do  not  remove  for  the  pur- 
pose of  writing  libels,  but  for  the  purpose  of  being  able  to 
write  what  is  not  libellous.  I  do  not  retire  from  a  combat 
with  the  Attorney- General  but  from  a  combat  with  a 
dungeon,  deprived  of  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  A  combat  with 
the  Attorney-General  is  quite  unequal  enough.  That, 
however,  I  would  have  encountered.  I  know  too  well 
what  a  trial  by  Special  Jury  is.  Yet  that,  or  any  sort  of 
trial,  I  would  have  stayed  to  face.  So  that  I  could  have 
been  sure  of  a  trial,  of  whatever  sort,  I  would  have  run  the 
risk.  But  against  the  absolute  power  of  imprisonment, 
without  even  a  hearing,  for  time  unlimited,  in  any  jail  in 
the  kingdom,  without  the  use  of  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  and 
without  any  communication  with  any  soul  but  the  keepers 
— against  such  a  power  it  would  have  been  worse  than 
madness  to  attempt  to  strive." 

It  was  no  mere  voluble  demagogue  who  declared  : 

"  I  will  never  become  a  Subject  or  a  Citizen  in  any  other 
state,  and  will  always  be  a  foreigner  in  every  country  but 
England.  Any  foible  that  may  belong  to  your  character 
I  shall  always  willingly  allow  to  belong  to  my  own.  And 
the  celebrity  which  my  writings  have  obtained,  and  which 
they  will  preserve,  long  and  long  after  Lords  Liverpool 
and  Sidmouth  and  Castlereagh  are  rotten  and  forgotten, 
I  owe  less  to  my  own  talents  than  to  that  discernment  and 
that  noble  spirit  in  you,  which  have  at  once  instructed 
my  mind  and  warmed  my  heart  :  and  my  beloved  country- 
men, be  you  well  assured,  that  the  last  beatings  of  that 
heart  will  be  love  for  the  people,  for  the  happiness  and  the 
renown  of  England  ;  and  hatred  of  their  corrupt,  hypo- 
critical, dastardly  and  merciless  fees." 


INTRODUCTION 


Perhaps,  as  his  biographers  have  suggested,  his  departure  was 
quickened  by  financial  troubles.  The  Quarterly  Review  said 
that  he  "  fled  from  his  creditors.  That  he  should  do  this  was 
perfectly  natural  ;  the  thing  to  be  admired  is,  that  such  a  man 
should  have  creditors  to  flee  from."  But  clearly  it  was  not  only 
his  debts  that  urged  his  flight. 

He  had  left  America,  in  1800,  a  Tory,  an  anti-democrat  ;  but 
now,  in  18 17,  he  returned  a  Radical,  smarting  and  denouncing 
the  institutions  and  the  masters  of  his  native  country.  Often  in 
the  Register,  which  he  still  directed  and  contributed  to  during 
his  exile,  and  in  the  following  pages,  he  contrasted  the  maleficence 
of  the  English  system  with  the  freedom  of  the  American — the 
freedom  of  speech  and  the  press,  the  lightness  of  the  taxes,  the 
independence  of  the  people  : 

"  To  see  a  free  country  for  once,  and  to  see  every  labourer 
with  plenty  to  eat  and  drink  !  Think  of  that  I  And  never 
to  see  the  hang-dog  face  of  a  tax-gatherer.  Think  of 
that !  No  Alien  Acts  here  !  No  long-sworded  and 
whiskered  Captains.  No  Judges  escorted  from  town  to 
town  and  sitting  under  the  guard  of  dragoons.  No  packed 
juries  of  tenants.  No  Crosses.  No  Bolton  Fletchers.  No 
hangings  and  rippings  up.  No  Castleses  and  Olivers. 
No  Stewarts  and  Perries.  No  Cannings,  Liverpools, 
Castlereaghs,  Eldons,  Ellenboroughs  or  Sidmouths.  No 
Bankers.  No  Squeaking  Wynnes.  No  Wilberforces . 
Think  of  that.     No  Wilberforces  !  " 

Though  he  speaks  with  the  tongue  of  men  and  of  stern  angels, 
humour  is  still  heard  ;  there  is  still  an  enjoyment  of  his  own 
phrase,  a  satisfaction  in  his  own  grotesque  imaginations. 

He  had  found  himself  forgotten  when  he  arrived  in  America, 
and  acquiesced  in  this  unusual  experience,  occupying  himself 
with  the  purchase  and  cultivation  of  his  farm,  and  planning 
and  writing,  among  other  books,  the  enormously  popular  English 
Grammar.  His  family  and  other  letters  from  America  are  pleasant 
enough  in  their  hints  of  rural  felicity  only  half  complete  ;  it  is 
described  more  freely  in  the  present  volume,  which  does  not 
afford  an  orderly  narrative  of  the  seasons  of  the  year  and  the 
labours  of  an  unambitious  man,  but  rather  the  chaotic  energies, 
the  diversions,  humours  and  passions  of  a  man  who  sought  to 
live  many  lives  at  once. 

Cobbett  was  not  able  to  stay  long  in  quietness.  His  house  and 
much  of  his  property  were  destroyed  by  fire  in  1819,  and  this 
disaster  turned  his  thoughts  homeward  again.  The  suspension 
of  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act  had  not  been  renewed,  and  the  prospect 
of  liberty  in  his  native  country  seemed  fair.  Bearing  the  bones 
of  Tom  Paine  he  left  America  in  the  autumn  of  181 9,  and  landed 
in  Liverpool  with  the  precious  relics  in  his  proud  possession. 


INTRODUCTION 


"  Great  indeed,"  he  exclaimed  to  a  wondering  assembly,  *"  great 
indeed  must  that  man  have  been,  whose  very  bones  attract  such 
attention."  Armed  with  the  bones  Cobbett  passed  like  a  Prince 
through  a  country  torn  with  faction — here  welcomed,  there 
repulsed,  and  always  self-delighted.  He  was  once  again  in 
England,  and  happy. 


Ill 

A  Year's  Residence  in  America  is  a  favourite  book  among  the 
growing  body  of  admirers  of  William  Cobbett,  mainly  because 
it  is  so  pleasant  in  its  autobiography.  Did  George  Borrow  learn 
from  him  that  trick  of  displaying,  enlarging,  and  discoursing  upon 
his  prejudices  and  opinions,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  both  ? 
A  Year's  Residence  is  full  of  Cobbett — the  homely  man,  the 
romantic,  the  satirical,  the  eloquent,  the  curt.  Pigs  lead  him  to 
Rousseau  ;  that  scurvy  root,  the  potato,  is  involved  with  a 
denunciation  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton  ;  parsons  like  placemen 
are  distinguished  by  his  scorn  ;  Arthur  Young  is  but  a  religious 
fanatic,  bribed  by  £500  a  year  ;  and  Bentham  becomes  little  Mr. 
Jerry  Bentham,  an  everlasting  babbler.  He  pleases  himself  with 
the  praise  of  American  hospitality,  regretting  that  it  had  died  in 
England  under  the  extortion  of  the  tax-gatherer,  and  still  more 
delights  himself  with  the  beauty  of  American  women.  But  his 
heart  is  still  in  England  :  "  England  is  my  country  and  to  England 
I  shall  return.  I  like  it  best  "  ;  to  which  country,  he  says  "  I 
always  have  affection  which  I  cannot  feel  towards  any  other  in  the 
same  degree,  and  the  prosperity  and  honour  of  which  I  shall,  I 
hope,  never  cease  to  prefer  before  the  gratification  of  all  private 
pleasure  and  emoluments." 

Near  the  close  of  his  life  he  said,  "  I  suppose  that  no  one  has 
ever  passed  a  happier  life  than  I  have  done."  That,  after  all,  is 
his  chief  recommendation  to  the  kindness  of  posterity,  and  the 
chief  virtue  of  A  Year's  Residence  in  America — the  transparent 
happiness  of  the  author.  And  since  I  began  with  a  portrait  by 
Fearon,  I  should  like  to  end  with  another  by  Hazlitt,  who  admired 
him  as  only  Hazlitt  can  admire — with  accordant  praise  and  blame 
in  a  resounding  and  perfect  antiphony  : 

"  The  only  time  I  ever  saw  him  he  seemed  to  me  a  very 
pleasant  man  :  easy  of  access,  affable,  clear-headed,  simple 
and  mild  in  his  manner,  deliberate  and  unruffled  in  his 
speech,  though  some  of  his  expressions  were  not  ;very 
qualified.  His  figure  is  tall  and  portly  :  he  has  a  good 
sensible  face,  rather  full,  with  little  grey  eyes,  a  hard, 
square  forehead,  a  ruddy  complexion,  with  hair  grey  or 
powdered  :    and  had  on  a  scarlet  broad-cloth  waistcoat, 


INTRODUCTION 


with  the  flaps  of  the  pockets  hanging  down,  as  was  the 
custom  for  gentlemen-farmers  in  the  last  century,  or  as  we 
see  it  in  the  picture  of  Members  of  Parliament  in  the  reign 
of  George  I.  I  certainly  did  not  think  less  favourably 
of  him  for  seeing  him." 

JOHN  FREEMAN. 


Q6NSRAL    TR6FAC8 

TO  THE 

THR86    TARTS 


i.  Throughout  the  whole  of  this  work  it  is  my  intention  to 
number  the  paragraphs,  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  each  Part. 
This  renders  the  business  of  reference  more  easy  than  it  can  be 
rendered  by  any  mode  in  my  power  to  find  out  ;  and,  easy  re- 
ference saves  a  great  deal  of  paper  and  print,  and  also,  which 
ought  to  be  more  valuable  a  great  deal  of  time,  of  which  an  in- 
dustrious man  has  never  any  to  spare.  To  desire  the  reader  to 
look  at  paragraph  such  a  number  of  such  a  part,  will  frequently, 
as  he  will  find,  save  him  both  money  and  labour  ;  for,  without 
this  power  of  reference,  the  paragraph,  or  the  substance  of  it, 
would  demand  being  repeated  in  the  place  where  the  reference 
would  be  pointed  out  to  him. 

2.  Amongst  all  the  publications,  which  I  have  yet  seen,  on  the 
subject  of  the  United  States,  as  a  country  to  live  in,  and  especially 
to  farm  in,  I  have  never  yet  observed  one  that  conveyed  to  English- 
men anything  like  a  correct  notion  of  the  matter.  Some  writers 
of  Travels  in  these  States  have  jolted  along  in  the  stages  from 
place  to  place,  have  lounged  away  their  time  with  the  idle  part 
of  their  own  countrymen,  and,  taking  every  thing  different  from 
what  they  left  at  home  for  the  effect  of  ignorance,  and  every  thing 
not  servile  to  be  the  effect  of  insolence,  have  described  the  country 
as  unfit  for  a  civilized  being  to  reside  in.  Others,  coming  with  a 
resolution  to  find  every  thing  better  than  at  home,  and  weakly 
deeming  themselves  pledged  to  find  climate,  soil,  and  all  blessed 
by  the  effects  of  freedom,  have  painted  the  country  as  a  perfect 
paradise  ;  they  have  seen  nothing  but  blooming  orchards  and 
smiling  faces. 

3.  The  account,  which  I  shall  give,  shall  be  that  of  actual 
experience.  I  will  say  what  I  know  and  what  I  have  seen  and 
what  I  have  done.  I  mean  to  give  an  account  of  a  Year's 
Residence,  ten  months  in  this  Island  and  two  months  in 
Pennsylvania,  in  which  I  went  back  to  the  first  ridge  of  mountains. 


GENERAL  PREFACE 


In  the  course  of  the  three  parts,  of  which  this  work  will  consist, 
each  part  making  a  small  volume,  every  thing  which  appears  to 
me  useful  to  persons  intending  to  come  to  this  country  shall  be 
communicated  ;  but,  more  especially  that  which  may  be  useful 
to  farmers  ;  because,  as  to  such  matters,  I  have  ample  experience. 
Indeed,  this  is  the  main  thing  ;  for  this  is  really  and  truly  a  country 
of  farmers.  Here,  Governors,  Legislators,  Presidents,  all  are 
farmers.  A  farmer  here  is  not  the  poor  dependent  wretch  that  a 
Yeomanry- Cavalry  man  is,  or  that  a  Treason-Jury  man  is.  A 
farmer  here  depends  on  nobody  but  himself  and  on  his  own  proper 
means  ;  and,  if  he  be  not  at  his  ease,  and  even  rich,  it  must  be 
his  own  fault. 

4.  To  make  men  clearly  see  what  they  may  do  in  any  situation 
of  life,  one  of  the  best  modes,  if  not  the  very  best,  is  to  give  them, 
in  detail,  an  account  of  what  one  has  done  oneself  in  that  same 
situation,  and  how  and  when  and  where  one  has  done  it.  This, 
as  far  as  relates  to  farming  and  house-keeping  in  the  country,  is 
the  mode  that  I  shall  pursue.  I  shall  give  an  account  of  what  I 
have  done  ;  and,  while  this  will  convince  any  good  farmer,  or 
any  man  of  tolerable  means,  that  he  may,  if  he  will,  do  the  same, 
it  will  give  him  an  idea  of  the  climate,  soil,  crops,  &c,  a  thousand 
times  more  neat  and  correct,  than  could  be  conveyed  to  his  mind 
by  any  general  description,  unaccompanied  with  actual  experi- 
mental accounts. 

5.  As  the  expressing  of  this  intention  may,  perhaps,  suggest  to 
the  reader  to  ask,  how  it  is  that  much  can  be  known  on  the  subject 
of  Farming  by  a  man,  who,  for  thirty-six  out  of  fifty -two  years  of 
his  life  has  been  a  Soldier  or  a  Political  Writer,  and  who,  of  course, 
has  spent  so  large  a  part  of  his  time  in  garrisons  and  in  great 
cities,  I  will  beg  leave  to  satisfy  this  natural  curiosity  before-hand. 

6.  Early  habits  and  affections  seldom  quit  us  while  we  have 
vigour  of  mind  left.  I  was  brought  up  under  a  father,  whose 
talk  was  chiefly  about  his  garden  and  his  fields,  with  regard  to 
which  he  was  famed  for  his  skill  and  his  exemplary  neatness. 
From  my  very  infancy,  from  the  age  of  six  years,  when  I  climbed 
up  the  side  of  a  steep  sand-rock,  and  there  scooped  me  out  a  plot 
four  feet  square  to  make  me  a  garden,  and  the  soil  for  which  I 
carried  up  in  the  bosom  of  my  little  blue  smock-frock  (or  hunting- 
shirt)  ,  I  have  never  lost  one  particle  of  my  passion  for  these  healthy 
and  rational  and  heart-cheering  pursuits,  in  which  every  day 
presents  something  new,  in  which  the  spirits  are  never  suffered 
to  flag,  and  in  which  industry,  skill,  and  care  are  sure  to  meet 
with  their  due  reward.  I  have  never,  for  any  eight  months 
together,  during  my  whole  life,  been  without  a  garden.  So  sure 
are  we  to  overcome  difficulties  where  the  heart  and  mind  are 
bent  on  the  thing  to  be  obtained  ! 

7.  The  beautiful  plantation  of  American  Trees  round  my  house 
at  Botley,  the  seeds  of  which  were  sent  me,  at  my  request,  from 
Pennsylvania,  in  1806,  and  some  of  which  are  now  nearly  forty 

xviii 


GENERAL  PREFACE 


feet  high,  all  sown  and  planted  by  myself,  will,  I  hope,  long  remain 
as  a  specimen  of  my  perseverance  in  this  way.  During  my  whole 
life  I  have  been  a  gardener.  There  is  no  part  of  the  business, 
which,  first  or  last,  I  have  not  performed  with  my  own  hands. 
And,  as  to  it,  I  owe  very  little  to  books,  except  that  of  Tull  ; 
for  I  never  read  a  good  one  in  my  life,  except  a  French  book, 
called  the  Manuel  du  Jardinier. 

8.  As  to  farming,  I  was  bred  at  the  plough-tail,  and  in  the  Hop- 
Gardens  of  Farnham  in  Surrey,  my  native  place,  and  which  spot, 
as  it  so  happened,  is  the  neatest  in  England,  and,  I  believe,  in  the 
whole  world.  All  there  is  a  garden.  The  neat  culture  of  the 
hop  extends  its  influence  to  the  fields  round  about.  Hedges  cut 
with  shears  and  every  other  mark  of  skill  and  care  strike  the  eye 
at  Farnham,  and  become  fainter  and  fainter  as  you  go  from  it  in 
every  direction.  I  have  had,  besides,  great  experience  in  farming 
for  several  years  of  late  ;  for,  one  man  will  gain  more  knowledge 
in  a  year  than  another  will  in  a  life.  It  is  the  taste  for  the  thing 
that  really  gives  the  knowledge. 

9.  To  this  taste,  produced  in  me  by  a  desire  to  imitate  a  father 
whom  I  ardently  loved,  and  to  whose  very  word  I  listened  with 
admiration,  I  owe  no  small  part  of  my  happiness,  for  a  greater 
proportion  of  which  very  few  men  ever  had  to  be  grateful  to  God. 
These  pursuits,  innocent  in  themselves,  instructive  in  their  very 
nature,  and  always  tending  to  preserve  health,  have  a  constant, 
a  never-failing  source,  of  recreation  to  me  ;  and,  which  I  count 
amongst  the  greatest  of  their  benefits  and  blessings,  they  have 
always,  in  my  house,  supplied  the  place  of  the  card-table,  the 
dice-box,  the  chess-board  and  the  lounging  bottle.  Time  never 
hangs  on  the  hands  of  him,  who  delights  in  these  pursuits,  and 
who  has  books  on  the  subject  to  read.  Even  when  shut  up  within 
the  walls  of  a  prison,  for  having  complained  that  Englishmen  had 
been  flogged  in  the  heart  of  England  under  a  guard  of  German 
Bayonets  and  Sabres  ;*  even  then,  I  found  in  these  pursuits  a 
source  of  pleasure  inexhaustible.  To  that  of  the  whole  of  our 
English  books  on  these  matters,  I  then  added  the  reading  of  all  the 
valuable  French  books  ;  and  I  then,  for  the  first  time,  read  that 
Book  of  all  Books  on  husbandry,  the  work  of  JetiiRO  Tull,  to 
the  principles  of  whom  I  owe  more  than  to  all  my  other  reading 
and  all  my  experience,  and  of  which  principles  I  hope  to  find  time 
to  give  a  sketch,  at  least,  in  some  future  Part  of  this  work. 

10.  I  wish  it  to  be  observed,  that,  in  any  thing  which  I  may 
say,  during  the  course  of  this  work,  though  truth  will  compel 
me  to  state  facts,  which  will,  doubtless,  tend  to  induce  farmers  to 
leave  England  for  America,  I  advise  no  one  so  to  do.  I  shall  set 
dov/n  in  writing  nothing  but  what  is  strictly  true.     I  myself  am 

*  Sentenced  9  July,  1810,  to  pay  a  fine  of  £l,C00;  to  be  imprisoned 
2  years  in  Newgate  Gaol,  and  at  expiration  of  that  time  to  enter 
into  a  Kecognizance  to  keep  the  peace  for  7  years— himself  in  the 
sum  of  £3,000,  and  two  sureties  in  £1,000  each. 


GENERAL  PREFACE 


bound  to  England  for  life.  My  notions  of  allegiance  to  country  ; 
my  great  and  anxious  desire  to  assist  in  the  restoration  of  her 
freedom  and  happiness  ;  my  opinion  that  I  possess,  in  some 
small  degree,  at  any  rate,  the  power  to  render  such  assistance  ; 
and,  above  all  the  other  considerations,  my  unchangeable  attach- 
ment to  the  people  of  England,  and  especially  those  who  have 
so  bravely  struggled  for  our  rights  :  these  bind  me  to  England  ; 
but,  I  shall  leave  others  to  judge  and  to  act  for  themselves. 


Wm.  COBBETT. 


North  Hempstedy  Long  Island, 
z\st  April,  1818. 


*A  TSARS  'R6SID6NCS 
IN  AMERICA 


CHAPTER  I. 

Description  of  the  Situation  and  Extent  of  Long  Island,  and  also  of 
the  Face  of  the  Country,  and  an  Account  of  the  Climate,  Seasons, 
and  Soil. 

1 1 .  Long  Island  is  situated  in  what  may  be  called  the  middle 
climate  of  that  part  of  the  United  States,  which,  coastwise,  extends 
from  Boston  to  the  Bay  of  Chesapeake.  Farther  to  the  South, 
the  cultivation  is  chiefly  by  negroes,  and  farther  to  the  North  than 
Boston  is  too  cold  and  arid  to  be  worth  much  notice,  though, 
doubtless,  there  are  to  be  found  in  those  parts  good  spots  of  land 
and  good  farmers.  Boston  is  about  200  miles  to  the  North  of 
me,  and  the  Bay  of  Chesapeake  about  the  same  distance  to  the 
South.  In  speaking  of  the  climate  and  seasons,  therefore,  an 
allowance  must  be  made,  of  hotter  or  colder,  earlier  or  later,  in  a 
degree  proportioned  to  those  distances  ;  because  I  can  speak 
positively  only  of  the  very  spot,  at  which  I  have  resided.  But 
this  is  a  matter  of  very  little  consequence  ;  seeing  that  every  part 
has  its  seasons  first  or  last.  All  the  difference  is,  that,  in  some 
parts  of  the  immense  space  of  which  I  have  spoken,  there  is  a 
little  more  summer  than  in  other  parts.  The  same  crops  will, 
I  believe,  grow  in  them  all. 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


12.  The  situation  of  Long  Island  is  this  :  It  is  about  130  miles 
long.  It  extends  in  length  from  the  Bay  of  the  City  of  New 
York  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  State  of  Rhode  Island. 
One  side  of  it  is  against  the  sea,  the  other  side  looks  across  an  arm 
of  the  sea  into  a  part  of  the  State  of  New  York  (to  which  Long 
Island  belongs)  and  into  a  part  of  the  State  of  Connecticut.  At 
the  end  nearest  the  city  of  New  York  it  is  separated  from  the  site 
of  that  city  by  a  channel  so  narrow  as  to  be  crossed  by  a  Steam- 
Boat  in  a  few  minutes  ;  and  this  boat,  with  another  near  it, 
impelled  by  a  team  of  horses,  which  works  in  the  boat,  form  the 
mode  of  conveyance  from  the  Island  to  the  city,  for  horses, 
waggons,  and  every  thing  else. 

13.  The  Island  is  divided  into  three  counties  ;  King's  county, 
Queen's  county,  and  the  county  of  Suffolk.  King's  county  takes 
off  the  end  next  New  York  city,  for  about  13  miles  up  the  Island  ; 
Queen's  county  cuts  off  another  slice  about  thirty  miles  further 
up  ;  and  all  the  rest  is  the  county  of  Suffolk.  These  counties  are 
divided  into  townships.  And,  the  municipal  government  of 
Justices  of  the  Peace,  Sheriffs,  Constables,  &c.  is  in  nearly  the 
English  way,  with  such  differences  as  I  shall  notice  in  the  second 
part  of  this  work. 

14.  There  is  a  ridge  of  hills,  which  runs  from  one  end  of  the 
Island  to  the  other.  The  two  sides  are  flats,  or,  rather,  very  easy 
and  imperceptible  slopes  towards  the  sea.  There  are  no  rivers, 
or  rivulets  except  here  and  there  a  little  run  into  a  bottom  which 
lets  in  the  sea- water  for  a  mile  or  two  as  it  were  to  meet  the  springs. 
Dryness  is,  therefore,  a  great  characteristic  of  this  Island.  At 
the  place  where  I  live,  which  is  in  Queen's  county,  and  very  nearly 
the  middle  of  the  Island,  crosswise,  we  have  no  water,  except  in  a 
well  seventy  feet  deep,  and  from  the  clouds  ;  yet,  we  never  ex- 
perience a  want  of  water.  A  large  rain-water  cistern  to  take  the 
run  from  the  house,  and  a  duck-pond  to  take  that  from  the  barn, 
afford  an  ample  supply  ;  and  I  can  truly  say,  that  as  to  the  article 
of  water,  I  never  was  situated  to  please  me  so  well  in  my  life  before. 
The  rains  come  about  once  in  fifteen  days  ;  they  come  in 
abundance  for  about  twenty-four  hours  :  and  then  all  is  fair 
and  all  is  dry  again  immediately  :  yet  here  and  there,  especially 
on  the  hills ,  there  are  ponds,  as  they  call  them  here  ;  but  in  England, 
they  would  be  called  lakes,  from  their  extent  as  well  as  from  their 
depth.  These,  with  the  various  trees  which  surround  them,  are 
very  beautiful  indeed. 

15.  The  farms  are  so  many  plots  originally  scooped  out  of 
woods  ;  though  in  King's  and  Queen's  counties  the  land  is 
generally  pretty  much  deprived  of  the  woods,  which,  as  in  every 
other  part  of  America  that  I  have  seen,  are  beautiful  beyond  all 
description.  The  Walnut  of  two  or  three  sorts,  the  Plane,  the 
Hickory,  Chesnut,  Tulip  Tree,  Cedar,  Sassafras,  Wild  Cherry 
(sometimes  60  feet  high)  ;  more  than  fifty  sorts  of  Oaks  ;  and 
many  other  trees,  but  especially  the  Flowering  Locust,  or  Acacia, 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


which,  in  my  opinion,  surpasses  all  other  trees,  and  some  of 
which,  in  this  Island,  are  of  a  very  great  height  and  girt.  The 
Orchards  constitute  a  feature  of  great  beauty.  Every  farm  has 
its  orchard,  and,  in  general,  of  cherries  as  well  as  of  apples  and 
'pears.  Of  the  cultivation  and  crops  of  these,  I  shall  speak  in 
another  Part  of  the  work. 

1 6.  There  is  one  great  draw-back  to  all  these  beauties,  namely, 
the  fences ;  and,  indeed,  there  is  another  with  us  South-of- 
England  people,  namely,  the  general  (for  there  are  many  ex- 
ceptions) slovenliness  about  the  homesteads,  and  particularly 
about  the  dwellings  of  labourers.  Mr.  Birkbeck  complains  of 
this  ;  and,  indeed,  what  a  contrast  with  the  homesteads  and 
cottages,  which  he  left  behind  him  near  that  exemplary  spot, 
Guildford  in  Surrey  !  Both  blots  are,  however,  easily  accounted 
for. 

17.  The  fences  are  of  post  and  rail.  This  arose,  in  the  first 
place,  from  the  abundance  of  timber  that  men  knew  not  how  to 
dispose  of.  It  is  now  become  an  affair  of  great  expense  in  the 
populous  parts  of  the  country  ;  and,  that  it  might,  with  great 
advantage  and  perfect  ease,  be  got  rid  of,  I  shall  clearly  show  in 
another  part  of  my  work. 

18.  The  dwellings  and  gardens,  and  little  out-houses  of  labourers, 
which  form  so  striking  a  feature  of  beauty  in  England,  and 
especially  in  Kent,  Sussex,  Surrey,  and  Hampshire,  and  which 
constitute  a  sort  of  fairy-land,  when  compared  with  those  of  the 
labourers  in  France,  are  what  I,  for  my  part,  most  feel  the  want 
of  seeing  upon  Long  Island.  Instead  of  the  neat  and  warm  little 
cottage,  the  yard,  cow-stable,  pig-sty,  hen-house,  all  in  miniature, 
and  the  garden,  nicely  laid  out  and  the  paths  bordered  with 
flowers,  while  the  cottage  door  is  crowned  with  a  garland  of  roses 
or  honey-suckle  ;  instead  of  these,  we  here  see  the  labourer 
content  with  a  shell  of  boards,  while  all  around  him  is  as  barren 
as  the  sea -beach  ;  though  the  natural  earth  would  send  melons, 
the  finest  in  the  world,  creeping  round  his  door,  and  though  there 
is  no  English  shrub,  or  flower,  which  will  not  grow  and  flourish 
here.  This  want  of  attention  is  such  cases  is  hereditary  from  the 
first  settlers.  They  found  land  so  plenty,  that  they  treated  small 
spots  with  contempt.  Besides,  the  example  of  neatness  was 
wanting.  There  were  no  gentlemen's  gardens,  kept  as  clean  as 
drawing-rooms,  with  grass  as  even  as  a  carpet.  From  endeavour- 
ing to  imitate  perfection  men  arrive  at  mediocrity  ;  and,  those 
who  never  have  seen,  or  heard  of  perfection,  in  these  matters,  will 
naturally  be  slovens. 

19.  Yet,  notwithstanding  these  blots,  as  I  deem  them,  the  face 
of  the  country,  in  summer,  is  very  fine.  From  December  to 
May,  there  is  not  a  speck  of  green.  No  green-grass  and  turnips, 
and  wheat,  and  rye,  and  rape,  as  in  England.  The  frost  comes 
and  sweeps  all  vegetation  and  verdant  existence  from  the  face 
of  the  earth.     The  wheat  and  rye  live  ;   but,  they  lose  all  their 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 

verdure.  Yet  the  state  of  things  in  June,  is,  as  to  crops,  and 
fruits,  much  about  what  it  is  in  England  ;  for,  when  things  do 
begin  to  grow,  they  grow  indeed  ;  and  the  general  harvest  for 
grain  (what  we  call  corn)  is  a  full  month  earlier  than  in  the  South 
of  England  ! 

20.  Having  now  given  a  sketch  of  the  face  of  the  country,  it 
only  remains  for  me  to  speak  in  this  place  of  the  Climate  and 
Seasons,  because  I  shall  sufficiently  describe  the  Soil,  when  I 
come  to  treat  of  rny  own  actual  experience  of  it.  I  do  not  like, 
in  these  cases,  general  descriptions,  Indeed,  they  must  be  very 
imperfect ;  and,  therefore,  I  will  just  give  a  copy  of  a  journal, 
kept  by  myself,  from  the  5th  of  May,  1817,  to  the  20th  of  April, 
1 8 18.  This,  it  appears  to  me,  is  the  best  way  of  proceeding  ;  for, 
then,  there  can  be  no  deception  ;  and,  therefore,  I  insert  it  as 
follows. 


1817. 

May    5.      Landed  at  New  York. 

6.  Went  over  to  Long  Island.  Very  fine  day,  warm 
as  May  in  England.  The  Peach-trees  going  out  of 
bloom.     Plum  trees  in  full  bloom. 

7.  Cold,  sharp,  East  wind,  just  like  that  which  makes 
the  old  debauchees  in  London  shiver  and  shake. 

8.  A  little  frost  in  the  night,  and  a  warm  day. 

9.  Cold  in  the  shade  and  hot  in  the  sun. 

10.  The  weather  has  been  dry  for  some  time.  The 
grass  is  only  beginning  to  grow  a  little. 

1 1 .  Heavy  thunder  and  rain  in  the  night,  and  all  this  day. 

12.  Rain  till  noon.     Then  warm  and  beautiful. 

13.  Warm,    fine   day.     Saw,   in   the   garden,    lettuces 
onions,  carrots,  and  parsnips,  just  come  up  out  of 
the  ground. 

14.  Sharp,  drying  wind.  People  travel  with  great  coats 
to  be  guarded  against  the  morning  and  evening  air. 

15.  Warm  and  fair.  The  farmers  are  beginning  to 
plant  their  Indian  Corn. 

16.  Dry  wind,  warm  in  the  sun.  Cherry  trees  begin 
to  come  out  in  bloom.  The  Oaks  show  no  green 
yet.  The  Sassafras  in  flower,  or,  whatever  else  it 
is  called.     It  resembles  the  Elder  flower  a  good  deal 

17.  Dry  wind.  Warmer  than  yesterday.  An  English 
April  morning,  that  is  to  say,  a  sharp  April  morning, 
and  a  June  day. 

18.  Warm  and  fine.  Grass  pushes  on.  Saw  some 
Lucerne  in  a  warm  spot,  8  inches  high. 

19.  Rain  all  day.  Grass  grows  apace.  People  plant 
potatoes. 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


1817. 

May  20.  Fine  and  warm.  A  good  cow  sells,  with  a  calf  by 
her  side,  for  45  dollars.  A  steer,  two  years  old,  20 
dollars.     A  working  ox,  five  years  old,  40  dollars. 

21.  Fine  and  warm  day  ;  but  the  morning  and  evening 
coldish.  The  cherry-trees  in  full  bloom,  and  the 
pear-trees  nearly  the  same.  Oats,  sown  in  April, 
up,  and  look  extremely  fine. 

22.  Fine  and  warm. — Apple-trees  fast  coming  into 
bloom.     Oak  buds  breaking. 

23.  Fine  and  warm. — Things  grow  away.  Saw  kidney- 
beans  up  and  looking  pretty  well.  Saw  some  beets 
coming  up.  Not  a  sprig  of  parsley  to  be  had  for 
love  or  money.  What  improvidence  !  Saw  some 
cabbage  plants  up  and  in  the  fourth  leaf. 

24.  Rain  at  night  and  all  day  to-day.  Apple-trees  in 
full  bloom,  and  cherry-bloom  falling  off. 

25.  Fine  and  warm. 

26.  Dry  coldish  wind,  but  hot  sun.  The  grass  has 
pushed  on  most  furiously. 

27.  Dry  wind.  Spaded  up  a  corner  of  ground  and 
sowed  (in  the  natural  earth)  cucumbers  and  melons. 
Just  the  time,  they  tell  me. 

28.  Warm  and  fair. 

29.  Cold  wind  ;  but,  the  sun  warm.  No  fires  in  par- 
lours now,  except  now-and-then  in  the  mornings 
and  evenings. 

30.  Fine  and  warm. — Apples  have  dropped  their  blos- 
soms. And  now  the  grass,  the  wheat,  the  rye,  and 
every  thing,  which  has  stood  the  year,  or  winter 
through,  appear  to  have  overtaken  their  like  in  Old 
England. 

3 1 .  Coldish  morning  and  evening. 

June  1.  Fine  warm  day  ;  but,  saw  a  man,  in  the  evening, 
covering  something  in  a  garden.  It  was  kidney- 
beans ,  and  he  feared  a  frost  !  To  be  sure,  they  are 
very  tender  things.  I  have  had  them  nearly  killed 
in  England,  by  June  frosts. 

2.  Rain  and  warm. — The  oaks  and  all  the  trees,  except 
the  Flowering  Locusts  begin  to  look  greenish. 

3.  Fine  and  warm. — The  Indian  Corn  is  generally 
come  up  ;  but  looks  yellow  in  consequence  of  the 
cold  nights  and  little  frosts.  N.B. — I  ought  here 
to  describe  to  my  English  readers  what  this  same 
Indian  Corn  is  : — The  Americans  call  it  Corn,  by 
way  of  eminence,  and  wheat,  rye,  barley  and  oats, 
which  we  confound  under  the  name  of  corn,  they 
confound  under  the  name  of  grain.  The  Indian 
Corn  in  its  ripe  seed  state,  consists  of  an  ear,  which 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

June  3  is  in  the  shape  of  a  spruce- fir  apple.  The  grains, 
each  of  which  is  about  the  bulk  of  the  largest  marrow- 
fat pea,  are  placed  all  round  the  stalk,  which  goes 
up  the  middle,  and  this  little  stalk,  to  which  the  seeds 
adhere,  is  called  the  Corn  Cob.  Some  of  these  ears 
(of  which  from  1  to  4  grow  upon  a  plant)  are  more 
than  a  foot  long  ;  and  I  have  seen  many,  each  of 
which  weighed  more  than  eighteen  ounces,  avoir- 
dupois weight.  They  are  long  or  short,  heavy  or 
light,  according  to  the  land  and  the  culture.  I  was 
at  a  Tavern,  in  the  village  of  North  Hempstead, 
last  fall  (of  1 8 17)  when  I  had  just  read,  in  the  Courier 
English  news-paper,  of  a  Noble  Lord  who  had  been 
sent  on  his  travels  to  France  at  ten  years  of  age,  and 
who,  from  his  high-blooded  ignorance  of  vulgar 
things,  I  suppose,  had  swallowed  a  whole  ear  of  corny 
which,  as  the  newspaper  told  us,  had  well-nigh 
choaked  the  Noble  Lord.  The  landlord  had  just 
been  showing  me  some  of  his  fine  ears  of  Corn  ;  and 
I  took  the  paper  out  of  my  pocket  and  read  the 
paragraph  :  "  What  !  "  said  he,  "  swallow  a  whole 
ear  of  corn  at  once  !  No  wonder  that  they  have 
swallowed  up  poor  Old  John  Bull's  substance." 
After  a  hearty  laugh,  we  explained  tp  him,  that  it 
must  have  been  wheat  or  barley.  Then  he  said,  and 
very  justly,  that  the  Lord  must  have  been  a  much 
greater  fool  than  a  hog  is. — The  plant  of  the  Indian 
corn  grows,  upon  an  average,  to  about  8  feet  high, 
and  sends  forth  the  most  beautiful  leaves,  resembling 
the  broad  leaf  of  the  water  flag.  It  is  planted  in 
hills  or  rows,  so  that  the  plough  can  go  between  the 
standing  crop.  Its  stalks  and  leaves  are  the  best  of 
fodder,  if  carefully  stacked  ;  and  its  grain  is  good  for 
every  thing.  It  is  eaten  by  man  and  beast  in  all  the 
various  shapes  of  whole  corn,  meal,  cracked,  and 
every  other  way  that  can  be  imagined.  It  is  tossed 
down  to  hogs,  sheep,  cattle,  in  the  whole  ear.  The 
two  former  thresh  for  themselves,  and  the  latter  eat 
cob  and  all.  It  is  eaten,  and  is  a  very  delicious  thing, 
in  its  half- ripe,  or  milky  state  ;  and  these  were  the 
"  ears  of  corn  "  which  the  Pharisees  complained  of 
the  Disciples  for  plucking  off  to  eat  on  the  Sabbath 
day  ;  for,  how  were  they  to  eat  wheat  ears,  unless 
after  the  manner  of  the  "  Noble  Lord  "  above  men- 
tioned ?  Besides,  the  Indian  Corn  is  a  native  of 
Palestine.  The  French,  who,  doubtless,  brought  it 
originally  from  the  Levant,  call  it  Turkish  Corn. 
The  Locusts,  that  John  the  Baptist  lived  on,  were  not 
6 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

June  3.  (as  I  used  to  wonder  at  when  a  boy)  the  noxious 
vermin  that  devoured  the  land  of  Egypt;  butthebean, 
which  comes  in  the  long  pods  borne  by  the  three- 
thorned  Locust-tree,  and  of  which  I  have  an  abun- 
dance here.  The  wild  honey  was  the  honey  of  wild 
bees  ;  and  the  hollow  trees  here  contain  swarms 
of  them.  The  trees  are  cut,  sometimes,  in  winter, 
and  the  part  containing  the  swarm  brought  and  placed 
near  the  house.     I  saw  this  lately  in  Pennsylvania. 

4.  Fine  rain.     Began  about  ten  o'clock. 

5.  Rain  nearly  all  day. 

6.  Fine    and    warm.     Things     grow    surprizingly. 

7.  Fine  and  warm.     Rather  cold  at  night. 

8.  Hot. 

9.  Rain  all  day.  The  wood  green,  and  so  beautiful  ! 
The  leaves  look  so  fresh  and  delicate  !  But,  the 
Flowering  Locust  only  begins  to  show  leaf.  It  will 
by  and  by,  make  up,  by  its  beauty,  for  its  shyness, 
at  present. 

10.  Fine  waim  day.  The  cattle  are  up  to  their  eyes  in 
grass. 

11.  Fine  warm  day.  Like  the  very,  very  finest  in 
England  in  June. 

12.  Fine  day.  And,  when  I  say  fine,  I  mean  really 
fine.     Not  a  cloud  in  the  sky. 

13.  Fine  and  hot.  About  as  hot  as  the  hottest  of  our 
English  July  weather  in  common  years.  Lucerne, 
-z\  feet  high. 

14.  Fine  and  hot  ;  but,  we  have  always  a  breeze  when 
it  is  hot,  which  I  did  not  formerly  find  in  Pennsyl- 
vania. This  arises,  I  suppose,  from  our  nearness 
to  the  sea. 

15.  Rain  all  day. 

16.  Fine,  beautiful  day.  Never  saw  such  fine  weather. 
Not  a  morsel  of  dirt.  The  ground  sucks  up  all. 
I  walk  about  and  work  in  the  land  in  shoes  made  of 
deer-skin.  They  are  dressed  white,  like  breeches- 
leather.  I  began  to  leave  off  my  coat  to-day,  and  do 
not  expect  to  put  it  on  again  till  October.  My 
hat  is  a  white  chip,  with  broad  brims.  Never  better 
health. 

17.  Fine  day.  The  partridges  (miscalled  quails)  begin 
to  sit.  The  orchard  full  of  birds'  nests  ;  and, 
amongst  others,  a  dove  is  sitting  on  her  eggs  in  an 
apple  tree. 

18.  Fine  day.  Green  peas  fit  to  gather  in  pretty  early 
gardens,  though  only  of  the  common  hotspur  sort. 
Mayduke  cherries  begin  to  be  ripe. 

7 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

June  19.  Fine  day.  But,  now  comes  my  alarm !  The 
musquitoes,  and,  still  worse,  the  common  house-fly, 
which  used  to  plague  us  so  in  Pennsylvania,  and 
which  were  the  only  things  I  ever  disliked  belonging 
to  the  climate  of  America.  Musquitoes  are  bred  in 
stagnant  water,  of  which  here  is  none.  Flies  are 
bred  in  filth,  of  which  none  shall  be  near  me  as  long 
as  I  can  use  a  shovel  and  a  broom.  They  will  follow 
fresh  meat  and  fish.  Have  neither,  or  be  very  care- 
ful. I  have  this  day  put  all  these  precautions  in 
practice  ;    and,  now  let  us  see  the  result. 

20.  Fine  day.      Carrots  and  parsnips,  sown  on  the  3? 

and  4th  instant,  all  up,  and  in  rough  leaf  !  Onions 
up.  The  whole  garden  green  in  18  days  from  the 
sowing. 

21.  Very  hot.     Thunder  and  heavy  rain  at  night. 

22.  Fine  day.     May-duke  cherries  ripe. 

23.  Hot  and  close.     Distant  thunder. 

24.  Fine  day. 

25.  Fine   day.     White-heart   and    black-heart   cherries 
getting  ripe. 

26.  Rain.     Planted  out  cucumbers  and  melons.     I  find 

I  am  rather  late. 

27.  Fine  day. 

28.  Fine  day.     Gathered  cherries  for  drying  for  winter 
use. 

29.  Fine  day. 

30.  Rain  all  night.     People  are  planting  out  their  cab- 
bages for  the  winter  crop. 

July     1.      Fine  day.     Bought  20  bushels  of  English  salt  for 
half  a  dollar  a  bushel. 

2.  Fine  day. 

3.  Fine  day. 

4.  Fine  day.     Carrots,  sown  3rd  June,  3  inches  high. 

5.  Very  hot  day.     No  flies  yet. 

6.  Fine  hot  day.  Currants  ripe.  Oats  in  haw.  Rye 
nearly  ripe.  Indian  corn  two  feet  high.  Hay- 
making nearly  done. 

7.  Rain  and  thunder  early  in  the  morning. 

8.  Fine  hot  day.  Wear  no  waistcoat  now,  except  in 
the  morning  and  evening. 

9.  Fine  hot  day.  Apples  to  make  puddings  and  pies  ; 
but  our  housekeeper  does  not  know  how  to  make  an 
apple-pudding.  She  puts  the  pieces  of  apple 
amongst  the  batter  !     She  has  not  read  Peter  Pindar. 

10.      Fine  hot  day.     I  work  in  the  land  morning  and 
evening,  and  write  in  the  day  in  a  north  room.     The 
dress  is  now  become  a  very  convenient,  or,  rather,  a 
8 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

July  10.  very  little  inconvenient  affair.  Shoes,  trowsers, 
shirt  and  hat.  No  plague  of  dressing  and  un- 
dressing 1 

11.  Fine  hot  day  in  the  morning,  but  began  to 
grow  dark  in  the  afternoon.  A  sort  of  haze 
came   over. 

12.  Very  hot  day.  The  common  black  cherries,  the 
little  red  honey  cherries,  ail  ripe  now,  and  falling 
and  rotting  by  the  thousands  of  pounds  weight. 
But,  this  place  which  I  rent  is  remarkable  for 
abundance  of  cherries.  Some  early  peas,  sown  in 
the  second  week  in  June,  fit  for  the  table.  This  is 
thirty  days  from  the  time  of  sowing.  No  flies  yet  ! 
JVo  musquitoes  ! 

13.  Hot  and  heavy,  like  the  pleading  of  a  quarter- 
sessions  lawyer.  No  breeze  to-day,  which  is  rarely 
the  case. 

14.  Fine  day.     The  Indian  corn  four  feet  high. 

15.  Fine  day.  We  eat  turnips  sown  on  the  second  of 
June.     Early  cabbages  (a  gift)  sown  in  May. 

16.  Fine  hot  day.  Fine  young  onions,  sown  on  the 
8th  of  June. 

17.  Fine  hot  day.  Harvest  of  wheat,  rye,  oats  and 
barley,  half  done.  But,  indeed,  what  is  it  to  do 
when  the  weather  does  so  much  1 

18.  Fine  hot  day. 

19.  Rain  all  day. 

20.  Fine  hot  day,  and  some  wind.  All  dry  again  as 
completely  as  if  it  had  not  rained  for  a  year. 

21.  Fine  hot  day  ;  but  heavy  rain  at  night.  Flies,  a 
few.  Not  more  than  in  England.  My  son  John, 
who  has  just  returned  from  Pennyslvania,  says 
they  are  as  great  torments  there  as  ever.  At  a 
friend's  house  (a  farm  house)  there,  two  quarts  of 
fties  were  caught  in  one  window  in  one  day  I  I  do 
not  believe  that  there  are  two  quarts  in  all  my 
premises.  But,  then,  I  cause  all  wash  and  slops  to 
be  carried  forty  yards  from  the  house.  I  suffer  no 
peelings  or  greens,  or  any  rubbish,  to  lie  near  the 
house.  I  suffer  no  fresh  meat  to  remain  more  than 
one  day  fresh  in  the  house.  I  proscribe  all  fish. 
Do  not  suffer  a  dog  to  enter  the  house.  Keep  all 
pigs  at  a  distance  of  sixty  yards.  And  sweep  all 
round  about  once  every  week  at  least. 

22.  Fine  hot  day. 

23.  Fine  hot  day.  Sowed  Buck-wheat  in  a  piece  of  very 
poor  ground. 

24.  Fine   hot   day.     Harvest   (for  grain)   nearly   over. 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

July  24.  The  main  part  of  the  wheat,  &c.  is  put  into  Barns, 
which  are  very  large  and  commodious.  Some  they 
put  into  small  ricks,  or  stacks,  out  in  the  fields,  and 
there  they  stand,  without  any  thatching,  till  they  are 
wanted  to  be  taken  in  during  the  winter,  and,  some- 
times they  remain  out  for  a  whole  year.  Nothing 
can  prove  more  clearly  than  this  fact,  the  great 
difference  between  this  climate  and  that  of  England, 
where,  as  every  body  knows,  such  stacks  would  be 
mere  heaps  of  muck  by  January,  if  they  were  not, 
long  and  long  before  that  time,  carried  clean  of 
the  farm  by  the  wind.  The  crop  is  sometimes 
threshed  out  in  the  field  by  the  feet  of  horses,  as  in 
the  South  of  France.  It  is  sometimes  carried  into 
the  barn's  floor,  where  three  or  four  horses,  or  oxen, 
going  abreast,  trample  out  the  grain  as  the  sheaves, 
or  swarths,  are  brought  in.  And  this  explains  to 
us  the  humane  precept  of  Moses,  "  not  to  muzzle 
the  ox  as  he  treadeth  out  the  grain,"  which  we  country 
people  in  England  cannot  make  out.  I  used  to  be 
puzzled,  too,  in  the  story  of  Ruth,  to  imagine  how 
Boaz  could  be  busy  amongst  his  threshers  in  the 
height  of  harvest. — The  weather  is  so  fine,  and  the 
grain  so  dry,  that,  when  the  wheat  and  rye  are 
threshed  by  the  flail,  the  sheaves  are  barely  untied, 
laid  upon  the  floor,  receive  a  few  raps,  and  are  then 
tied  up,  clean  threshed  for  straw,  without  the  order 
of  the  straws  being  in  the  least  changed  !  The  ears 
and  butts  retain  their  places  in  the  sheaf,  and  the 
band  that  tied  the  sheaf  before  ties  it  again.  The 
straw  is  as  bright  as  burnished  gold.  Not  a  speck 
in  it.  These  facts  will  speak  volumes  to  an  English 
farmer,  who  will  see  with  what  ease  work  must  be 
done  in  such  a  country. 

25.  Fine  hot  day.  Early  peas,  mentioned  before, 
harvested,  in  forty  days  from  the  sowing.  Not 
more  flies  than  in  England. 

26.  Fine  broiling  day.  The  Indian  Corn  grows  away 
now,  and  has,  each  plant,  at  least  a  tumbler  full f of 
water  standing  in  the  sockets  of  its  leaves,  while  the 
sun  seems  as  if  it  would  actually  burn  one.  Yet 
we  have  a  breeze ;  and,  under  these  fine  shady 
Walnuts  and  Locusts  and  Oaks,  and  on  the  fine  grass 
beneath,  it  is  very  pleasant.  Woodcocks  begin  to 
come   very   thick   about. 

27.  Fine  broiler  again.  Some  friends  from  England 
here  to-day.  We  spent  a  pleasant  day  ;  drank 
success  to  the  Debt,  and  destruction  to  the  Borough- 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

July  27.  mongers,  in  gallons  of  milk  and  water. — Not  more 
flies  than  in  England. 
28.  Very,  very  hot.  The  Thermometer  85  degrees  in 
the  shade  ;  but  a  breeze.  Never  slept  better  in  all 
my  life.  No  covering.  A  sheet  under  me,  and  a 
straw  bed.  And  then,  so  happy  to  have  no  clothes 
to  put  on  but  shoes  and  trowsers  !  My  window 
looks  to  the  East.  The  moment  the  Aurora  appears, 
I  am  in  the  Orchard.  It  is  impossible  for  any 
human  being  to  lead  a  pleasanter  life  than  this. 
How  I  pity  those,  who  are  compelled  to  endure  the 
stench  of  cities  ;  but,  for  those  who  remain  there 
without  being  compelled,  I  have  no  pity. 
29.  Still  the  same  degree  of  heat.  I  measured  a  water- 
melon runner,  which  grew  eighteen  inches  in  the 
last  48  hours.  The  dews  now  are  equal  to  showers  ; 
I  frequently,  in  the  morning,  wash  hands  and  face, 
feet  and  legs,  in  the  dew  on  the  high  grass.  The 
Indian  Corn  shoots  up  now  so  beautifully  ! 

30.  Still  melting  hot. 

31.  Same  weather. 

August  1 .  Same  weather.  I  take  off  two  shirts  a  day  wringing 
wet,  I  have  a  clothes-horse  to  hang  them  on  to  dry. 
Drink  about  20  good  tumblers  of  milk  and  water 
every  day.  No  ailments.  Head  always  clear.  Go 
to  bed  by  day-light  very  often.  Just  after  the  hens 
go  to  roost,  and  rise  again  with  them. 

2.  Hotter  and  hotter,  I  think  ;  but,  in  this  weather  we 
always  have  our  friendly  breeze. — Not  a  single 
musquito  yet. 

3.  Cloudy  and  a  little  shattering  of  rain  ;  but  not 
enough  to  lay  the  dust. 

4*      Fine  hot  day. 

5.  A  very  little  rain.  Dried  up  in  a  minute.  Planted 
cabbages  with  dust  running  into  the  holes. 

6.  Fine  hot  day. 

7.  Appearances  forebode  rain. — I  have  observed  that, 
when  rain  is  approaching,  the  stones  (which  are  the 
rock  stone  of  the  country),  with  which  a  piazza 
adjoining  the  house  is  paved,  get  zvet.  This  wet 
appears,  at  first,  at  the  top  of  each  round  stone,  and, 
then,  by  degrees,  goes  all  over  it.  Rain  is  sure  to 
follow.  It  has  never  missed  ;  and,  which  is  very 
curious,  the  rain  lasts  exactly  as  long  as  the  stones 
take  to  get  all  over  wet  before  it  comes  !  The  stones 
dry  again  before  the  rain  ceases.  However,  this 
foreknowledge  of  rain  is  of  little  use  here  ;  for, 
when  it  comes,   it   is    sure  to  be  soon  gone ,'  and 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC 


1817. 

August  7.      to  be  succeeded  by  a   sun,  which  restores   all 
rights. 

I  wondered,  at  first,  why  I  never  saw  any  baromeU 
in  people's  houses,  as  almost  eveiy  farmer  has  the 
in  England.  But,  I  soon  found,  that  they  wou 
be,  if  perfectly  true,  of  no  use.     Early  pears  ripe. 

8.  Fine  Rain.     It  comes  pouring  down. 

9.  Rain  still,  which  has  now  lasted  60  hours. — Kill 
a  lamb,  and,  in  order  to  keep  it  fresh,  sunk  it  do\ 
into  the  well. — The  wind  makes  the  Indian  Co 
bend. 

10.  Fine  clear  hot  day.     The  grass,  which  was  bro\ 
the  day  before  yesterday,  is  already  beautifully  gree 
In  one  place,  where  there  appeared  no  signs  < 
vegetation,  the  grass  is  two  inches  high. 

11.  No  heavy  rain  at  night 

12.  Hot  and  close. 

13.  Hot  and  close. 

14.  Hot  and  close.     No  breezes  these  three  days. 

15.  Very  hot  indeed.  80  degrees  in  a  North  aspect  at 
9  in  the  evening.  Three  wet  shirts  to-day.  Obliged 
to  put  on  a  dry  shirt  to  go  to  bed  in. 

16.  Very  hot  indeed.  85  degrees  ;  the  thermometer 
hanging  under  the  Locust  trees  and  swinging  about 
with  the  breeze.  The  dews  are  now  like  heavy 
showers. 

17.  Fine  hot  day.  Very  hot.  I  fight  the  Borough- 
villians,  stripped  to  my  shirt,  and  with  nothing  on 
besides,  but  shoes  and  trowsers.  Never  ill  ;  no 
head-aches  ;  no  muddled  brains.  The  milk  and 
water  is  a  great  cause  of  this.  I  live  on  salads,  other 
garden  vegetables,  apple-puddings  and  pies,  butter, 
cheese  {very  good  from  Rhode  Island),  eggs,  and 
bacon.  Resolved  to  have  no  more  fresh  meat,  'till 
cooler  weather  comes.  Those  who  have  a  mind  to 
swallow,  or  be  swallowed  by,  flies,  may  eat  fresh 
meat  for  me. 

18.  Fine  and  hot. 

19.  Very  hot. 

20.  Very  hot ;  but  a  breeze  every  day  and  night. — 
Buckwheat,  sown  23rd  July,  9  inches  high,  and, 
poor  as  the  ground  was,  looks  very  well. 

21.  Fine  hot  day. 

22.  Fine  hot  day. 

23.  Fine  hot  day.  I  have  now  got  an  English  woman 
servant,  and  she  makes  us  famous  apple-puddings. 
She  says  she  has  never  read  Peter  Pindar's  account 
of  the  dialogue  between  the  King  and  the  Cottage- 


'CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


|8i 


7- 
igust  23.     woman  ;  and  yet  she  knows  very  well  how  to  get  the 
apples  within  side  of  the  paste.     N.B.     No  man 
ought   to   come   here,   whose   wife   and   daughters 
cannot  make  puddings  and  pies. 

24.  Fine  hot  day. 

25.  Fine  hot  day. 

26.  Fine  hot  day. 

27.  Fine  hot  day.  Have  not  seen  a  cloud  for  many 
days. 

28.  Windy  and  rather  coldish.  Put  on  cotton  stockings 
and  a  waistcoat  with  sleeves.  Do  not  like  this 
weather. 

29.  Same  weather.     Do  not  like  it. 

30.  Fine  and  hot  again.  Give  a  great  many  apples  to 
hogs.  Get  some  hazle-nuts  in  the  wild  grounds. 
Larger  than  the  English  :  and  much  about  the  same 
taste. 

31.  Fine  hot  day.     Prodigious  dews. 
Sept.  1.      Fine  and  hot. 

2.  Fine  and  hot. 

3.  Famously  hot.  Fine  breezes.  Began  imitating  the 
Disciples,  at  least  in  their  diet ;  for,  to-day,  we  began 
"  plucking  the  ears  of  corn  "  in  a  patch  planted  in  the 
garden  on  the  second  of  June.  But,  we,  in  imitation 
of  Pindar's  pilgrim,  take  the  liberty  to  boil  our  Corn. 
We  shall  not  starve  now. 

4.  Fine  and  hot.     83  degrees  under  the  Locust-trees. 

5.  Very  hot  indeed,  but  fair,  with  our  old  breeze. 

6.  Same  weather. 

7.  Same  weather. 

8.  Same  weather. 

9.  Rather  hotter.  We,  amongst  seven  of  us,  eat  about 
25  ears  of  Corn  a  day.  With  me  it  wholly  supplies 
the  place  of  bread.  It  is  the  choicest  gift  of  God  to 
man,  in  the  way  of  food.  I  remember,  that  Arthur 
Young  observes,  that  the  proof  of  a  good  climate  is, 
that  Indian  Corn  comes  to  perfection  in  it.  Our 
Corn  is  very  fine.  I  believe,  that  a  wine-glass  full 
of  milk  might  be  squeezed  out  of  one  ear.  No 
wonder  the  Disciples  were  tempted  to  pluck  it  when 
they  were  hungry,  though  it  was  on  the  Sabbath 
day  ! 

10.  Appearances  for  rain ;  and,  it  is  time  ;  for  my 
neighbours  began  to  cry  out,  and  our  rain-water 
cistern  begins  to  shrink.  The  well  is  there,  to  be 
sure  ;  but,  to  pull  up  water  from  70  feet  is  no  joke, 
while  it  requires  nearly  as  much  sweat  to  get  it  up, 
as  we  get  water. 
c  13 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

Sept.  11.      No  rain  ;   but  cloudly.     83  degrees  in  the  shade. 

12.  Rain  and  very  hot  in  the  morning.  Thunder  and 
heavy  rain  at  night. 

13.  Cloudy  and  cool.     Only  55  degrees  in  shade. 

14.  Cloudy  and  cool. 

15.  Fair  and  cool.  Made  a  fire  to  write  by.  Don't 
like  this  weather. 

16.  Rain,  warm. 

17.  Beautiful  day.  Not  very  hot.  Just  like  a  fine  day 
in  July  in  England  after  a  rain. 

18.  Same  weather.  Wear  stockings  now  and  a  waist- 
coat and  neck-handkerchief. 

19.  Same  weather.  Finished  our  Indian  Corn,  which, 
on  less  than  4  rods,  or  perches,  of  ground,  produced 
447  ears.  It  was  singularly  well  cultivated.  It  was 
the  long  yellow  Corn.  Seed  given  me  by  my 
excellent  neighbour,  Mr.  John  Tredwell. 

20.  Same  weather. 

21.  S  ame  weather . 

22.  Same  weather. 

23.  Cloudy  and  hotter. 

24.  Fine  rain  all  last  night  and  until  ten  o'clock  to-day. 

25.  Beautiful  day. 

26.  Same  weather.  70  degrees  in  shade.  Hot  as  the 
hot  days  in  August  in  England. 

27.  Rain  all  last  night. 

28.  Very  fine  and  warm.     Left  off  the  stockings  again. 

29.  Very  fine,  70  degrees  in  shade. 

30.  Same  weather. 

October  1.      Same  weather.     Fresh  meat  keeps  pretty  well  now. 

2.  Very  fine  ;  but,  there  was  a  little  frost  this  morning, 
which  did  not,  however,  affect  the  late  sown  Kidney 
Beans,  which  are  as  tender  as  the  cucumber  plant. 

3.  Cloudy  and  warm. 

4.  Very  fine  and  warm,  70  degrees  in  shade.  The 
apples  are  very  fine.  We  are  now  cutting  them  and 
quinces,  to  dry  for  winter  use.  My  neighbours 
give  me  quinces.  We  are  also  cutting  up  and 
drying  peaches. 

5.  Very  fine  and  warm.  Dwarf  Kidney  beans  very 
fine. 

6.  Very  fine  and  warm.     Cutting  Buckwheat. 

7.  Very  fine  and  warm.  65  degrees  in  shade  at  7 
o'clock  this  morning. — Windy  in  the  afternoon. 
The  wind  is  knocking  down  the  fall-pipins  for  us. 
One  picked  up  to-day  weighed  12 I  ounces  avoir- 
dupois weight.  The  average  weight  is  about  9 
ounces,  or,  perhaps,  10  ounces.     This  is  the  finest 

14 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

October  7.  of  all  apples.  Hardly  any  core.  Some  none  at  all. 
The  richness  of  the  pine-apple  without  the  rough- 
ness. If  the  King  could  have  seen  one  of  these  in  a 
dumpling  !  This  is  not  the  Newtown  Pipin,  which 
is  sent  to  England  in  such  quantities.  That  is  a 
winter  apple.  Very  fine  at  Christmas  ;  but  far 
inferior  to  this  fall-pipin,  taking  them  both  in  their 
state  of  perfection.  It  is  useless  to  send  the  trees 
to  England,  unless  the  heat  of  the  sun  and  the  rains 
and  the  dews  could  be  sent  along  with  the  trees. 

8.  Very  fine,  68  in  shade. 

9.  Same  weather. 

10.  Same  weather,  59  degrees  in  shade.  A  little  white 
frost  this  morning.  It  just  touched  the  lips  of  the 
kidney  bean  leaves  ;  but,  not  those  of  the  cucumbers 
or  melons,  which  are  near  fences. 

IX.  Beautiful  day.  61  degrees  in  shade.  Have  not 
put  on  a  coat  yet.  Wear  thin  stockings,  or  socks, 
waistcoat  with  sleeves,  and  neckcloth.  In  New 
York  Market,  Kidney  Beans  and  Green  peas. 

12.  Beautiful  day.     70  degrees  in  shade. 

13.  Same  weather. 

14.  Rain.  50  degrees  in  shade.  Like  a  fine,  warm, 
June  rain  in  England. 

15.  Beautiful  day.  56  degrees  in  shade.  Here  is  a 
month  of  October  / 

16.  Same  weather.     51  degrees  in  shade. 

17.  Same  weather,  but  a  little  warmer  in  the  day.  A 
smart  frost  this  morning.  The  kidney  beans,  cu- 
cumber and  melon  plants  pretty  much  cut  by  it. 

18.  A  little  rain  in  the  night.  A  most  beautiful  day. 
54  degrees  in  shade.     A  June  day  for  England. 

19.  A  very  white  frost  this  morning.  Kidney  beans, 
cucumbers,  melons,  all  demolished  ;  but  a  beautiful 
day.     56  degrees  in  shade. 

20.  Another  frost,  and  just  such  another  day.  Threshing 
Buckwheat  in  field. 

21.  No  frost.     58  degrees  in  shade. 

22.  Finest  of  English  June  days.     67  degrees  in  shade. 

23.  Beautiful  day.  70  degrees  in  shade.  Very  few 
summers  in  England  that  have  a  day  hotter  than  this. 
It  is  this  fine  sun  that  makes  the  fine  apples  ! 

24.  Same  weather  precisely.  Finished  Buckwheat 
threshing  and  winnowing.  The  men  have  been 
away  at  a  horse-race  ;  so  that  it  has  laid  out  in  the 
field,  partly  threshed  and  partly  not,  for  five  days. 
If  rain  had  come,  it  would  have  been  of  no  con- 
sequence.    All  would  have  been  dry  again  directly 

IS 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1817. 

October  24.  afterwards.  What  a  stew  a  man  would  be  in,  in 
England,  if  he  had  his  grain  lying  about  out  of  doors 
in  this  way  !  The  cost  of  threshing  and  winnowing 
60  bushels  was  7  dollars,  iZ.  115.  6d.  English  money 
that  is  to  say,  45.  a  quarter,  or  eight  Winchester 
bushels.  But,  then,  the  carting  was  next  to  nothing. 
Therefore,  though  the  labourers  had  a  dollar  a  day 
each,  the  expense,  upon  the  whole,  was  not  so  great 
as  it  would  have  been  in  England.  So  much  does 
the  climate  do  ! 

25.  Rain.  A  warm  rain,  like  a  fine  June  rain  in  England. 
57  degrees  in  shade.  The  late  frosts  have  killed, 
or,  at  least,  pinched  the  leaves  of  the  trees  ;  and  they 
are  now  red,  yellow,  russet,  brown,  or  of  a  dying 
green.  Never  was  any  thing  so  beautiful  as  the 
bright  sun,  shining  through  these  fine  lofty  trees 
upon  the  gay  verdure  beneath. 

26.  Rain.  Warm.  58  degrees  in  shade.  This  is  the 
general  Indian  Corn  harvest. 

27.  Rain.  Warm.  58  degrees  in  shade.  Put  on  coat, 
black  hat,  and  black  shoes. 

28.  Fine  day.  56  degrees  in  shade.  Pulled  up  a 
Radish  that  weighed  12  pounds  !  I  say  twelve, 
and  measured  2  feet  5  inches  round.  From  com- 
mon English  seed. 

29.  Very  fine  indeed. 

30.  Very  fine  and  warm. 

31.  Very  fine.  54  degrees  in  shade.  Gathered  our 
last  lot  of  winter  apples. 

Nov.    1.      Rain  all  the  last  night  and  all  this  day. 

2.  Rain  still.  54  degrees  in  shade.  Warm.  Things 
grow  well.     The  grass  very  fine  and  luxuriant. 

3.  Very  fine  indeed.  56  in  shade.  Were  it  not  for 
the  colour  of  the  leaves  of  the  trees,  all  would  look 
like  June  in  England. 

4.  Very,  very  fine.  Never  saw  such  pleasant  weather. 
Digging  Potatoes. 

5.  Same  weather  precisely. 

6.  A  little  cloudy,  but  warm. 

7.  Most  beautiful  weather  !  63  degrees  in  shade. 
N.B. — This  is  November. 

8.  A  little  cloudy  at  night  fall.  68  degrees  in  shade  ; 
that  is  to  say,  English  Summer  heat  all  but  7  degrees  . 

9.  Very  fine. 

10.  Very  fine. 

11.  Very  fine.  When  I  got  up  this  morning,  I  found  the 
thermometer  hanging  on  the  Locust  trees,  dripping 
with  dew,  at  62  degrees.     Left  off  my  coat  again. 

16 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


1817. 

Nov. 


12. 

13. 
14. 


15- 
16. 


17. 
18. 
19. 
20. 
21. 
22. 
23. 
24. 

25. 
26. 

27. 
28. 
29. 

30. 


} 


D< 


Same  weather.     69  degrees  in  shade. 
Beautiful  day,  but  cooler. 

Same  weather.  50  degrees  in  shade.  The  high-ways 
and  paths  as  clean  as  a  boarded  floor  ;  that  is  to 
say,  from  dirt  or  mud. 

Gentle  rain.  53  in  shade.  Like  a  gentle  rain  in 
May  in  England. 

Gentle  rain.  Warm.  56  in  shade.  What  a 
November  for  an  English  man  to  see  !  My  white 
turnips  have  grown  almost  the  whole  of  their  growth 
in  this  month.  The  Swedish,  planted  late,  grow 
surprisingly  now,  and  have  a  luxuriancy  of  appear- 
ance exceeding  any  thing  of  the  kind  I  ever  saw. 
We  have  fine  loaved  lettuce,  endive,  young  onions, 
young  radishes,  cauliflowers  with  heads  five  inches 
over.  The  rye  fields  grow  beautifully.  They  have 
been  food  for  cattle  for  a  month,  or  six  wreeks,  past. 
Cloudy.     Warm. 

Same  weather.     55  degrees  in  shade. 
Frost,  and  the  ground  pretty  hard. 
Very  fine  indeed.     Warm.     55  degrees  in  shade. 
Same  weather. 
Cold,  damp  air,  and  cloudy. 
Smart  frost  at  night. 

Same.     Warm  in  the  day  time. 


Same  ;  but  more  warm  in  the  day. 

Fine  warm  and  beautiful  day  ;  no  frost  at  night. 
57  degrees  in  shade. 

Same  weather  precisely  ;  but,  we  begin  to  fear  the 
setting-in  of  winter,  and  I  am  very  busy  in  covering 
up  cabbages,  mangle  wurzle,  turnips,  beets,  carrots, 
parsnips,  parsley,  &c,  the  mode  of  doing  which  (not 
less  useful  in  England  than  here,  though  not  so  indis- 
pensably necessary)  shall  be  described  when  I  come 
to  speak  of  the  management  of  these  several  plants. 
Fine  warm  rain.     56  in  shade. 

Very  fair  and  pleasant,  but  frost  sufficiently  hard 
to  put  a  stop  to  our  getting  up  and  stacking 
turnips.  Still,  however,  the  cattle  and  6heep 
do  pretty  well  upon  the  grass  which  is  long  and 
•^  dead.  Fatting  oxen  we  feed  with  the  greens  of 
Ruta  Baga,  with  some  corn  (Indian,  mind)  tossed 
down  to  them  in  the  ear.  Sheep  (ewes  that  had 
lambs  in  spring)  we  kill  very  fat  from  the  grass. 
No  dirt.     What  a  clean  and  convenient  soil  i 

17 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


ii7. 

Dec. 


15. 


16. 


17. 
18. 
19. 
20. 
21. 


22. 


23. 


24. 


25- 


Thaw.     No  rain.     We  get  on  with  our  work  again. 
Open  mild  weather. 
Same  weather.     Very  pleasant. 
Rain  began  last  night. 
Rain  all  day. 

Rain  all  day.  The  old  Indian  remark  is,  that  the 
winter  does  not  set  in  till  the  ponds  be  full.  It  is 
coming,  then. 

Rain  till  2  o'clock.  We  kill  mutton  now.  Ewes 
brought  from  Connecticut,  and  sold  to  me  here  at  2 
dollars  each  in  July,  just  after  shearing.  I  sell  them 
now  alive  at  3  dollars  each  from  the  grass.  Killed  and 
sent  to  market,  they  leave  me  the  loose  fat  for  can- 
dles, and  fetch  about  3  dollars  and  a  quarter  besides. 
Sharp  North  West  wind.  This  is  the  cold  American 
Wind.  "  A  North  Wester  "  means  all  that  can  be 
imagined  of  clear  in  summer  and  cold  in  zvinter.  I 
remember  hearing  from  that  venerable  and  excellent 
man,  Mr.  Baron  Maseres,  a  very  elegant  eulogium 
on  the  Summer  North  Wester,  in  England.  This 
is  the  only  public  servant  that  I  ever  heard  of  who 
refused  a  projfer'd  augmentation  of  salary  I 
A  hardish  frost. 
Open  weather  again. 

Fine  mild  day  ;    but  began  freezing  at  night-fall. 
Hard  frost. 

Very  sharp  indeed.  Thermometer  down  to  10 
degrees  ;  that  is  to  say,  22  degrees  colder  than 
barely  freezing. 

Same  weather.  Makes  us  run,  where  we  used  to 
walk  in  the  fall,  and  to  saunter  in  the  summer.  It 
is  no  new  thing  to  me  /  but  it  makes  our  other 
English  people  shrug  up  their  shoulders. 
Frost  greatly  abated.  Stones  show  for  wet.  It  will 
come,  in  spite  of  all  the  fine  serene  sky,  which  we 
now  see. 

A  thaw.  Servants  made  a  lot  of  candles  from  mutton 
and  beef  fat,  reserving  the  coarser  parts  to  make 
soap. 

Rain.  Had  some  English  friends.  Sirloin  of  own 
beef.  Spent  the  evening  in  light  of  ozon  candles, 
as  handsome  as  I  ever  saw,  and,  I  think  the  very 
best  I  ever  saw.  The  reason  is,  that  the  tallow  is 
fresh,  and  that  it  is  unmixed  with  grease,  which,  and 
staleness,  is  the  cause,  I  believe,  of  candles  running, 
and  plaguing  us  while  we  are  using  them.  What  an 
injury  is  it  to  the  farmers  in  England,  that  they  dare 
not,  in  this  way,  use  their  own  produce  :  Is  it  not  a 
18 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


1817. 

Dec.  25.  mockery  to  call  a  man  free,  who  no  more  dares  turn 
out  his  tallow  into  candles  for  his  own  use,  than  he 
dares  rob  upon  the  highway  ?  Yet,  it  is  only  by 
means  of  tyranny  and  extortion  like  this,  that  the 
hellish  system  of  funding  and  of  Seat-selling  can  be 
upheld. 

26.  Fine  warm  day.     52  degrees  in  shade. 

27.  Cold,  but  little  frost. 

28.  Same  weather.  Fair  and  pleasant.  The  late  sharp 
frost  has  changed  to  a  complete  yellow  every  leaf  of 
some  Swedish  Turnips  (Ruta  Baga),  left  to  take  their 
chance.     It  is  a  poor  chance,  I  believe  ! 

29.  Same  weather. 

30.  Rain  all  day. 

31.  Mild  and  clear.     No  frost. 
1818. 

Jan.     1.      Same  weather. 

2.  Same  weather. 

3.  Heavy  rain. 

4.  A  frost  that  makes  us  jump  and  skip  about  like  larks. 
Very  seasonable  for  a  sluggish  fellow.  Prepared 
for  winter.  Patched  up  a  boarded  building,  which 
was  formerly  a  coach-house  ;  but,  which  is  not  so 
necessary  to  me,  in  that  capacity,  as  in  that  of  a 
fowl-house.  The  neighbours  tell  me,  that  the 
poultry  will  roost  out  on  the  trees  all  the  winter, 
which,  the  weather  being  so  dry  in  winter,  is  very 
likely  ;  and,  indeed,  they  must,  if  they  have  no 
house,  which  is  almost  universally  the  case.  How- 
ever, I  mean  to  give  the  poor  things  a  choice.  I 
have  lined  the  said  ccach-house  with  cGrn-stalks 
and  leaves  of  trees,  and  have  tacked  up  cedar-boughs 
to  hold  the  lining  to  the  boards,  and  have  laid  a 
bed  of  leaves  a  foot  thick  all  over  the  floor.  I  have 
secured  all  against  dogs,  and  have  made  ladders  for 
the  fowls  to  go  in  at  holes  six  feet  from  the  ground. 
I  have  made  pig-styes,  lined  round  with  cedar- 
boughs  and  well  covered.  A  sheep-yard,  for  a 
score  of  ewes  to  have  lambs  in  spring,  surrounded 
with  a  hedge  of  cedar-boughs,  and  with  a  shed  for  the 
ewes  to  lie  under,  if  they  like.  The  oxen  and  cows 
are  tied  up  in  a  stall.  The  dogs  have  a  place,  well 
covered,  and  lined  with  corn-stalks  and  leaves. 
And  now,  I  can,  without  anxiety,  sit  by  the  fire,  or 
lie  in  bed,  and  hear  the  North-Wester  whistle. 

5.  Frost.  Like  what  we  call  "  a  hard  frost "  in  England. 

6.  Such  another  frost  at  night,  but  a  thaw  in  the  middle 
of  the  day. 

19 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 
1818. 

Jan.    7.      Little  frost.     Fine  warm  day.     The  sun  seems  loth 
to  quit  us. 

8.  Same  weather. 

9.  A  harder  frost,  and  snow  at  night.  The  fowls, 
which  have  been  peeping  at  my  ladders  for  two  or 
three  evenings,  and  partially  roosting  in  their  house, 
made  their  general  entry  this  evening  !  They  are 
the  best  judges  of  what  is  best  for  them.  The 
turkeys  boldly  set  the  weather  at  defiance,  and  still 
roost  on  the  top,  the  ridge,  of  the  roof  of  the  house. 
Their  feathers  prevent  their  legs  from  being  frozen, 
and  so  it  is  with  all  poultry  ;  but,  still,  a  house  must, 
one  would  think,  be  better  than  the  open  air  at  this 
season. 

10.  Snow,  but  sloppy.  I  am  now  at  New  York  on  my 
way  to  Pennsylvania.  N.B. — This  journey  into 
Pennsylvania  had,  for  its  principal  object,  an  appeal 
to  the  justice  of  the  Legislature  of  that  State  for 
redress  for  great  loss  and  injury  sustained  by  me, 
nearly  twenty  years  ago,  in  consequence  of  the 
tyranny  of  one  McKean,  who  was  then  the  Chief 
Justice  of  that  State.  The  appeal  has  not  yet 
been  successful  ;  but,  as  I  confidently  expect,  that 
it  finally  will,  I  shall  not,  at  present,  say  any  thing 
more  on  the  subject.  My  journey  was  productive 
of  much  and  various  observation,  and,  I  trust,  of 
useful  knowledge.  But,  in  this  place,  I  shall  do 
little  more  than  give  an  account  of  the  weather  ; 
reserving  for  the  Second  Part,  accounts  of  prices 
of  land,  &c,  which  will  there  come  under  their 
proper  heads. 

11.  Frost  but  not  hard.     Now  at  New  York. 

12.  Very  sharp  frost.  Set  off  for  Philadelphia.  Broke 
down  on  the  road  in  New  Jersey. 

13.  Very  hard  frost  still.  Found  the  Delaware,  which 
divides  New  Jersey  from  Pennsylvania,  frozen  over. 
Good  roads  now.  Arrive  at  Philadelphia  in  the 
evening. 

14.  Same  weather. 

15.  Same  weather.  The  question  eagerly  put  to  me  by 
every  one  in  Philadelphia,  is  "  Don't  you  think 
the  city  greatly  improved  "  They  seem  to  me  to 
confound  augmentation  with  improvement.  It 
always  was  a  fine  city,  since  I  first  knew  it ;  and 
it  is  very  greatly  augmented.  It  has,  I  believe, 
nearly  doubled  its  extent  and  number  of  houses 
since  the  year  1799.  But,  after  being,  for  so  long  a 
time,    familiar    with    London,    every    other    place 

20 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Jan.  15.  appears  little.  After  living  within  a  few  hundreds 
of  yards  of  Westminster  Hall  and  the  Abbey  Church 
and  the  Bridge,  and  looking  from  my  own  windows 
into  St.  James's  Park,  all  other  buildings  and  spots 
appear  mean  and  insignificant.  I  went  to-day  to 
see  the  house  I  formerly  occupied.  How  small  ! 
It  is  always  thus  :  the  words  large  and  small  are 
carried  about  with  us  in  our  minds,  and  we  forget 
real  dimensions.  The  idea,  such  as  it  was  received, 
remains  during  our  absence  from  the  object.  When 
I  returned  to  England,  in  i8co,  after  an  absence 
from  the  country  parts  of  it,  of  sixteen  years,  the 
trees,  the  hedges,  even  the  parks  and  woods,  seemed 
so  small !  It  made  me  laugh  to  hear  little  gutters, 
that  I  could  jump  over,  called  Rivers !  The 
Thames  was  but  a  "  Creek  !  "  But,  when,  in  about 
a  month  after  my  arrival  in  London,  I  went  to 
Farnham,  the  place  of  my  birth,  what  was  my  sur- 
prise !  Every  thing  was  become  so  pitifully  small  I 
I  had  to  cross,  in  my  post-chaise,  the  long  and  dreary 
heath  of  Bagshot.  Then,  at  the  end  of  it,  to  mount 
a  hill,  called  Hungry  Hill  ;  and  from  that  hill  I 
knew  that  I  should  look  down  into  the  beautiful 
and  fertile  vale  of  Farnham.  My  heart  fluttered 
with  impatience,  mixed  with  a  sort  of  fear,  to  see 
all  the  scenes  of  my  childhood  ;  for  I  had  learnt 
before,  the  death  of  my  father  and  mother.  There 
is  a  hill,  not  far  from  the  town,  called  Crooksbury 
Hill,  which  rises  up  out  of  a  flat,  in  the  form  of  a 
cone,  and  is  planted  with  Scotch  fir  trees.  Here 
I  used  to  take  the  eggs  and  young  ones  of  crows  and 
magpies.  This  hill  was  a  famous  object  in  the 
neighbourhood.  It  served  as  the  superlative  degree 
of  height.  "  As  high  as  Crooksbury  Hill  "  meant, 
with  us,  the  utmost  degree  of  height.  Therefore, 
the  first  object  that  my  eyes  sought  was  this  hill. 
I  could  not  believe  my  eyes  I  Literally  speaking,  I 
for  a  moment,  thought  the  famous  hill  removed, 
and  a  little  heap  put  in  its  stead  ;  for  I  had  seen  in 
New  Brunswick,  a  single  rock,  or  hill  of  solid  rock, 
ten  times  as  big,  and  four  or  five  times  as  high  ! 
The  post-boy,  going  down  hill,  and  not  a  bad  road, 
whisked  me,  in  a  few  minutes  to  the  Bush  Inn,  from 
the  garden  of  which  I  could  see  the  prodigious  sand 
hill,  where  I  had  begun  my  gardening  works.  What 
a  nothing  I  But  now  came  rushing  into  my  mind, 
all  at  once,  my  pretty  little  garden,  my  little  blue 
smock-frock,  my  little  nailed  shoes,  my  pretty 
21 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Jan.  15.  pigeons  that  I  used  to  feed  out  of  my  hands,  the 
last  kind  words  and  tears  of  my  gentle  and  tender- 
hearted and  affectionate  mother  !  I  hastened  back 
into  the  room  !  If  I  had  looked  a  moment  longer, 
I  should  have  dropped.  When  I  came  to  reflect, 
what  a  change  !  I  looked  down  at  my  dress.  What 
a  change  !  What  s'cenes  I  had  gone  through  ! 
How  altered  my  state  !  I  had  dined  the  day  before 
at  a  secretary  of  state's  in  company  with  Mr.  Pitt, 
and  had  been  waited  upon  by  men  in  gaudy  liveries  ! 
I  had  had  nobody  to  assist  me  in  the  world.  No 
teachers  of  any  sort.  Nobody  to  shelter  me  from 
the  consequence  of  bad,  and  no  one  to  counsel  me 
to  good,  behaviour.  I  felt  proud.  The  distinctions 
of  rank,  birth,  and  wealth,  all  became  nothing  in 
my  eyes  ;  and  from  that  moment  (less  than  a  month 
after  my  arrival  in  England)  I  resolved  never  to 
bend  before  them. 
16.  Same  weather.  Went  to  see  my  old  Quaker-friends 
at  Bustleton,  and  particularly  my  beloved  friend 
James  Paul,  who  is  very  ill. 

Returned  to  Philadelphia.     Little  frost  and  a  little 
snow. 

Moderate  frost.  Fine  clear  sky. 
The  Philadelphians  are  cleanly,  a  quality  which 
they  owe  chiefly  to  the  Quakers.  But,  after  being 
long  and  recently  familiar  with  the  towns  in  Surrey 
and  Hampshire,  and  especially  with  Guildford, 
Alton,  and  Southampton,  no  other  towns  appear 
clean  and  neat,  not  even  Bath  or  Salisbury,  which 
last  is  much  about  upon  a  par,  in  point  of  cleanliness, 
with  Philadelphia  ;  and,  Salisbury  is  deemed  a  very 
cleanly  place.  Blandford  and  Dorchester  are  clean  ; 
but,  I  have  never  yet  seen  any  thing  like  the  towns 
in  Surrey  and  Hampshire.  If  a  Frenchman,  born 
and  bred,  could  be  taken  up  and  carried  blindfolded 
to  Guildford,  I  wonder  what  his  sensations  would  be, 
when  he  came  to  have  the  use  of  his  sight  !  Every 
thing  near  Guildford  seems  to  have  received  an 
influence  from  the  town.  Hedges,  gates,  stiles, 
gardens,  houses  inside  and  out,  and  the  dresses  of 
the  people.  The  market  day  at  Guildford  is  a 
perfect  shozv  of  cleanliness.  Not  even  a  carter 
without  a  clean  smock-frock  and  closely-shaven 
and  clean-washed  face.  Well  may  Mr.  Birkbeck, 
who  came  from  this  very  spot,  think  the  people 
dirty  in  the  western  country  !  I'll  engage  he  finds 
more  dirt  upon  the  necks  and  faces  of  one  family 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


3i8. 

Jan.  21.  of  his  present  neighbours,  than  he  left  behind  him 
upon  the  skins  of  all  the  people  in  the  three  parishes 
of  Guildford.  However,  he  would  not  have  found 
this  to  be  the  case  in  Pennsylvania,  and  especially  in 
those  parts  where  the  Quakers  abound  ;  and,  I  am 
told,  that,  in  the  New  England  States,  the  people 
are  as  cleanly  and  as  neat  as  they  are  in  England. 
The  sweetest  flowers,  when  they  become  putrid, 
stink  the  most  ;  and,  a  nasty  woman  is  the  nastiest 
thing  in  nature. 

22.  Hard  frost.  My  business  in  Pennsylvania  is  with  the 
legislature.  It  is  sitting  at  Harrisburgh.  Set  off 
to-day  by  stage.  Fine  country  ;  fine  barns  ;  fine 
farms.  Must  speak  particularly  of  these  in  another 
place.  Got  to  Lancaster.  The  largest  inland  town 
in  the  United  States.  A  very  clean  and  good  town. 
No  beggarly  houses.     All  looks  like  ease  and  plenty. 

23.  Harder  frost,  but  not  very  severe.  Almost  as  cold 
as  the  weather  was  during  the  six  weeks,  continuance 
of  the  snow,  in  18 14,  in  England. 

24.  The  same  weather  continues. 

25.  A  sort  of  half  thaw.  Sun  warm.  Harrisburgh 
is  a  new  town,  close  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river 
Susquehannah,  which  is  not  frozen  over,  but  has 
large  quantities  of  ice  floating  on  its  waters.  All 
vegetation,  and  all  appearance  of  green,  gone  away. 

26.  Mild  weather.     Hardly  any  frost. 

27.  Thaws.  Warm.  Tired  to  death  of  the  tavern 
at  Harrisburgh,  though  a  very  good  one.  The 
cloth  spread  three  times  a  day.  Fish,  fowl,  meat, 
cakes,  eggs,  sausages  ;  all  sorts  of  things  in 
abundance.  Board,  lodging,  civil  but  not  servile 
waiting  on,  beer,  tea,  coffee,  chocolate.  Price,  a 
dollar  and  a  quarter  a  day.  Here  we  meet  altogether : 
senators,  judges,  lawyers,  tradesmen,  farmers,  and 
all.  I  am  weary  of  the  everlasting  loads  of  meat. 
Weary  of  being  idle.  How  few  such  days  have  I 
spent  in  my  whole  life  ! 

28.  Thaw  and  rain.  My  business  not  coming  on,  I 
went  to  a  country  tavern,  hoping  there  to  get  a  room 
to  myself,  in  which  to  read  my  English  papers,  and 
sit  down  to  writing.  I  am  now  at  M'Allister's 
tavern,  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  first  ridge  of 
mountains  ;  or  rather,  upon  a  little  nook  of  land, 
close  to  the  river,  where  the  river  has  found  a  way 
through  a  break  in  the  chain  of  mountains.  Great 
enjoyment  here.  Sit  and  read  and  write.  My 
mind  is  again  in  England.     Mrs.  M'Allister  just 


23 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Jan.  28.  suits  me.  Does  not  pester  me  with  questions. 
Does  not  cram  me  with  meat.  Lets  me  eat  and 
drink  what  I  like,  and  when  I  like,  and  gives  mugs 
of  nice  milk.  I  find,  here,  a  very  agreeable  and 
instructive  occasional  companion,  in  Mr.  M'Allis- 
ter  the  elder.  But,  of  the  various  useful  informa- 
tion, that  I  received  from  him,  I  must  speak  in  the 
second  part  of  this  work. 

29.  Very  hard  frost  this  morning.  Change  very  sudden. 
All  about  the  house  a  glare  of  ice. 

30.  Not  so  hard.  Icicles  on  the  trees  on  the  neighbouring 
mountains  like  so  many  millions  of  sparklings  tones, 
when  the  sun  shines,  which  is  all  the  day. 

31.  Same  weather.  Two  farmers  of  Lycoming  county 
had  heard  that  William  Cobbett  was  here.  They 
modestly  introduced  themselves.  What  a  contrast 
with  the  "  yeomanry  cavalry  !  " 

Feb.    1.      Same  weather.     About  the  same  as  a  "  hard  frost  " 
in  England. 

2.  Same  weather. 

3.  Snow. 

4.  Little  snow.  Not  much  frost.  This  day,  thirty- 
three  years  ago,  I  enlisted  as  a  soldier.  I  always 
keep  the  day  in  recollection. 

5.  Having  been  to  Harrisburgh  on  the  second,  returned 
to  McAllister's  to-day  in  a  sleigh.  The  River  begins 
to  be  frozen  over.     It  is  about  a  mile  wide. 

6.  Little  snow  again,  and  hardish  frost. 

7.  Now  and  then  a  little  snow.  Talk  with  some  hop- 
growers.  Prodigious  crops  in  this  neighbourhood  ", 
but,  of  them  in  the  Second  Part.  What  would  a 
Farnham  man  think  of  thirty  hundred  weight  of  hops 
upon  four  hundred  hills,  ploughed  between,  and  the 
ground  vines  fed  off  by  sheep  1  This  is  a  very 
curious  and  interesting  matter. 

8.  A  real  Frost. 

9.  Sharper.  They  say,  that  the  thermometer  is  down 
to  10  degrees  below  nought. 

10.  A  little  milder  ;  but  very  cold  indeed.  The  River 
completely  frozen  over,  and  sleighs  and  foot- 
passengers  crossing  in  all  directions. 

11.  Went  back  again  to  Harrisburgh.     Mild  frost. 

12.  Not  being  able  to  bear  the  idea  of  dancing  attendance, 
came  to  Lancaster,  in  order  to  see  more  of  this  pretty 
town.  A  very  fine  Tavern  (Slaymaker's)  ;  room  to 
myself;  excellent  accommodations.  Warm  fires. 
Good  and  clean  beds.  Civil  but  not  servile,  land- 
lord.    The    eating    still    more    overdone    than    at 

24 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


Feb.  12.  Harrisburgh.  Never  saw  such  profusion.  I  have 
made  a  bargain  with  the  landlord  :  he  is  to  give  me 
a  dish  of  chocolate  a  day,  instead  of  dinner.  Frost 
but  mild. 

13.  Rain — A  real  rain,  but  rather  cold. 

14.  A  complete  day  of  rain. 

15.  A  hard  frost  ;  much  about  like  a  hard  frost  in  the 
naked  parts  of  Wiltshire. — Mr.  Hulme  joined  me 
on  his  way  to  Philadelphia  from  the  city  of 
Washington. 

16.  A  hard  frost. — Lancaster  is  a  pretty  place.  No 
fine  buildings  ;  but  no  mean  ones.  Nothing  splendid 
and  nothing  beggarly.  The  people  of  this  town 
seem  to  have  had  the  prayer  of  Hagar  granted  them  : 
"  Give  me,  O  Lord,  neither  poverty  nor  riches." 
Here  are  none  of  those  poor,  wretched  habitations, 
which  sicken  the  sight  at  the  outskirts  of  cities  and 
towns  in  England  ;  those  abodes  of  the  poor  crea- 
tures, who  have  been  reduced  to  beggary  by  the 
cruel  extortions  of  the  rich  and  powerful.  And, 
this  remark  applies  to  all  the  towns  of  America  that 
I  have  ever  seen.  This  is  a  fine  part  of  America. 
Big  Barns,  and  modest  dwelling  houses.  Barns  of 
stone,  a  hundred  feet  long  and  forty  wide,  with  two 
floors,  and  raised  roads  to  go  into  them,  so  that  the 
waggons  go  into  the  first  floor  upstairs.  Below  are 
stables,  stalls,  pens,  and  all  sorts  of  conveniences. 
Up-stairs  are  rooms  for  threshed  corn  and  grain  ; 
for  tackle,  for  meal,  for  all  sorts  of  things.  In  the 
front  (South)  of  the  barn  is  the  cattle  yard.  These 
are  very  fine  buildings.  And,  then,  all  about  them 
looks  so  comfortable,  and  gives  such  manifest  proofs 
of  ease,  plenty,  and  happiness  !  Such  is  the  country 
of  William  Penn's  settling  !  It  is  a  curious  thing 
to  observe  the  farm-houses  in  this  country.  They 
consist,  almost  without  exception,  of  a  considerably 
large  and  a  very  neat  house,  with  sash  windows, 
and  of  a  small  house,  which  seems  to  have  been 
tacked  on  to  the  large  one  ;  and,  the  proportion  they 
bear  to  each  other,  in  point  of  dimensions,  is,  as 
nearly  as  possible,  the  proportion  of  size  between 
a  Cow  and  her  Calf,  the  latter  a  month  old.  But, 
as  to  the  cause,  the  process  has  been  the  opposite 
of  this  instance  of  the  works  of  nature,  for,  it  is  the 
large  house  which  has  grown  out  of  the  small  one.  The 
father,  or  grandfather,  while  he  was  toiling  for  his 
children,  lived  in  the  small  house,  constructed 
chiefly  by  himself,  and  consisting  of  rude  materials. 

25 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Feb.  16.  The  means,  accumulated  in  the  small  house,  enabled 
a  son  to  rear  the  large  one  ;  and,  though,  when 
pride  enters  the  door,  the  small  house  is  sometimes 
demolished,  few  sons  in  America  have  the  folly  or 
want  of  feeling  to  commit  such  acts  of  filial  in- 
gratitude, and  of  real  self-abasement.  For,  what 
inheritance  so  valuable  and  so  honourable  can  a  son 
enjoy  as  the  proofs  of  his  father's  industry  and 
virtue  ?  The  progress  of  wealth  and  ease  and 
enjoyment,  evinced  by  this  regular  increase  of  the 
size  of  the  farmers'  dwellings,  is  a  spectacle,  at  once 
pleasing,  in  a  very  high  degree,  in  itself  ;  and,  in 
the  same  degree,  it  speaks  the  praise  of  the  system 
of  government,  under  which  it  has  taken  place. 
What  a  contrast  with  the  farm-houses  in  England  ! 
There  the  little  farm-houses  are  falling  into  ruins, 
or,  are  actually  become  cattle-sheds,  or,  at  best, 
cottages,  as  they  are  called,  to  contain  a  miserable 
labourer,  who  ought  to  have  been  a  farmer,  as  his 
grandfather  was.  Five  or  six  farms  are  there  now 
levelled  into  one,  in  defiance  of  the  law  :  for,  there 
is  a  law  to  prevent  it.  The  farmer  has,  indeed,  a 
fine  house  :  but,  what  a  life  do  his  labourers  lead  ! 
The  cause  of  this  sad  change  is  to  be  found  in  the 
crushing  taxes  ;  and  the  cause  of  them,  in  the 
Borough  usurpation,  which  has  robbed  the  people 
of  their  best  right,  and,  indeed,  without  which  right, 
they  can  enjoy  no  other.  They  talk  of  the  augmented 
population  of  England  ;  and,  when  it  suits  the  pur- 
poses of  the  tyrants,  they  boast  of  this  fact,  as  they 
.are  pleased  to  call  it,  as  a  proof  of  the  fostering 
nature  of  their  government  ;  though,  just  now,  they 
are  preaching  up  the  vile  and  foolish  doctrine  of 
Parson  Malthus,  who  thinks,  that  there  are  too 
many  people,  and  that  they  ought  (those  who  labour, 
at  least)  to  be  restrained  from  breeding  so  fast.  But, 
as  to  the  fact,  I  do  not  believe  it.  There  can  be 
nothing  in  the  shape  of  proof  :  for  no  actual  enum- 
eration was  ever  taken  till  the  year  1800.  We  know 
well,  that  London,  Manchester,  Birmingham,  Bath, 
Portsmouth,  Plymouth,  and  all  Lancashire  and 
Yorkshire,  and  some  other  countries,  have  got  a  vast 
increase  of  miserable  beings  huddled  together. 
But,  look  at  Devonshire,  Somersetshire,  Dorset- 
shire, Wiltshire,  Hampshire,  and  other  counties. 
You  will  there  see  hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres  of 
land,  where  the  old  marks  of  the  plough  are  visible, 
but  which  have  not  been  cultivated  for,  perhaps, 
26 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Feb.  16.  half  a  century.  You  will  there  see  places,  that  were 
once  considerable  towns  and  villages,  now  having, 
within  their  ancient  limits,  nothing  but  a  few 
cottages,  the  Parsonage  and  a  single  Farm-house. 
It  is  a  curious  and  a  melancholy  sight,  where  an 
ancient  church,  with  its  lofty  spire  or  tower,  the 
church  sufficient  to  contain  a  thousand  or  two  or 
three  thousand  of  people  conveniently,  now  stands 
surrounded  by  a  score  or  half  a  score  of  miserable 
mud  houses,  with  floors  of  earth,  and  covered  with 
thatch  ;  and  this  sight  strikes  your  eye  in  all  parts 
of  the  five  Western  counties  of  England.  Surely 
these  churches  were  not  built  without  the  existence 
of  a  population  somewhat  proportionate  to  their 
size  !  Certainly  not  ;  for  the  churches  are  of 
various  sizes,  and,  we  sometimes  see  them  very 
small  indeed.  Let  any  man  look  at  the  sides  of  the 
hills  in  these  counties,  and  also  in  Hampshire,  where 
downs,  or  open  lands,  prevail.  He  will  there  see, 
not  only  that  those  hills  were  formerly  cultivated  ; 
but,  that  banks,  from  distance  to  distance,  were  made 
by  the  spade,  in  oider  to  form  little  flats  for  the 
plough  to  go,  without  tumbling  the  earth  down  the 
hill  ;  so  that  the  side  of  a  hill  looks,  in  some  sort, 
like  the  steps  of  a  stairs.  Was  this  done  without 
hands,  and  without  mouths  to  consume  the  grain 
raised  on  the  sides  of  these  hills  ?  The  Funding 
and  Manufacturing  and  Commercial  and  Taxing 
System  has,  by  drawing  wealth  into  great  masses, 
drawn  men  also  into  great  masses.  London,  the 
manufacturing  places,  Bath,  and  other  places  of 
dissipation,  have,  indeed,  wonderfully  increased  in 
population.  Country  seats,  Parks,  Pleasure-gar- 
dens, have,  in  like  degree,  increased  in  number  and 
extent.  And,  in  just  the  same  proportion  has  been 
the  increase  of  Poor-houses,  Mad-houses,  and  Jails. 
But,  the  people  of  England,  such  as  Fortescue 
described  them,  have  been  swept  away  by  the  ruth- 
less hand  of  the  Aristocracy,  who,  making  their 
approaches  by  slow  degrees,  have,  at  last,  got  into 
their  grasp  the  substance  of  the  whole  country. 

17.  Frost,  not  very  hard.     Went  back  to  Harrisburgh. 

18.  Same  weather.  Very  fine.  Warm  in  the  middle 
of  the  day. 

19.  Same  weather. — Quitted  Harrisburgh,  very  much 
displeased  :  but,  on  this  subject,  I  shall,  if  possible, 
keep  silence,  till  next  year,  and  until  the  People  of 
Pennsylvania  have  had  time  to  reflect ;    to  clearly 

27 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

Feb.  19.  understand  my  affair  ;  and  when  they  do  under- 
stand it,  I  am  not  at  all  afraid  of  receiving  justice 
at  their  hands,  whether  I  am  present  or  absent. 
Slept  at  Lancaster.  One  night  more  in  this  very 
excellent  Tavern. 

20.  Frost  still.  Arrived  at  Philadelphia  along  with  my 
friend  Hulme.  They  are  roasting  an  ox  on  the 
Delaware.  The  fooleries  of  England  are  copied 
here,  and  every  where  in  this  country,  with  wonder- 
ful avidity  ;  and,  I  wish  I  could  say,  that  some  of  the 
vices  of  our  "  higher  orders"  as  they  have  the  im- 
pudence to  call  themselves,  were  not  also  imitated. 
However,  I  look  principally  at  the  mass  of  farmers  ; 
the  sensible  and  happy  farmers  of  America. 

21.  Thaw  and  Rain. — The  severe  weather  is  over  for 
this  year. 

22.  Thaw  and  Rain.     A  solid  day  of  rain. 

23.  Little  frost  at  night.  Fine  market.  Fine  meat  of 
all  sorts.  As  fat  mutton  as  I  ever  saw.  How  mis- 
taken Mr.  Birkbeck  is  about  American  mutton  I 

24.  Same  weather.     Very  fair  days  now. 

25.  Went  to  Bustleton  with  my  old  friend,  Mr.  John 
Morgan. 

26.  Returned  to  Philadelphia.  Roads  very  dirty  and 
heavy. 

27.  Complete  thaw  :  but  it  will  be  long  before  the  frost 
be  out  of  the  ground. 

28.  Same  weather.  Very  warm.  I  hate  this  weather. 
Hot  upon  my  back,  and  melting  ice  under  my  feet. 
The  people  (those  who  have  been  lazy)  are  chopping 
away  with  axes  the  ice,  which  has  grown  out  of  the 
snows  and  rains,  before  their  doors,  during  the 
winter.  The  hogs  (best  of  scavengers)  are  very 
busy  in  the  streets  seeking  out  the  bones  and  bits 
of  meat,  which  have  been  flung  out  and  frozen  down 
amidst  water  and  snow,  during  the  two  foregoing 
months.  I  mean  including  the  present  month.  At 
New  York  (and,  I  think,  at  Philadelphia  also)  they 
have  corporation  laws  to  prevent  hogs  from  being  in 
the  streets.  For  what  reason,  I  know  not,  except 
putrid  meat  be  pleasant  to  the  smell  of  the  in- 
habitants. But,  Corporations  are  seldom  the  wisest 
of  law-makers.  It  is  argued,  that,  if  there  were  no 
hogs  in  the  streets,  people  would  not  throw  out  their 
orts  of  flesh  and  vegetables.  Indeed  !  What 
would  they  do  with  those  orts,  then  ?  Make  their 
hired  servants  eat  them  ?  The  very  proposition 
would  leave  them  to  cook  and  wash  for  themselves. 

28 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


1818. 

Feb.  28.  Where,  then,  are  they  to  fling  .these  effects  of  super- 
abundance ?  Just  before  I  left  New  York  for 
Philadelphia,  I  saw  a  sow  very  comfortably  dining 
upon  a  full  quarter  part  of  what  appeared  to  have 
been  a  fine  leg  of  mutton.  How  many  a  family  in 
England  would,  if  within  reach,  have  seized  this 
meat  from  the  sow  !  And,  are  the  tyrants,  who  have 
brought  my  industrious  countrymen  to  that  horrid 
state  of  misery,  never  to  be  called  to  account  ?  Are 
they  always  to  carry  it  as  they  now  do  ?  Every 
object  almost,  that  strikes  my  view,  sends  my  mind 
and  heart  back  to  England.  In  viewing  the  ease  and 
happiness  of  this  people,  the  contrast  fills  my  soul 
with  indignation,  and  makes  it  more  and  more  the 
object  of  my  life  to  assist  in  the  destruction  of  the 
diabolical  usurpation,  which  has  trampled  on  king 
as  well  as  people. 
March  z.  Rain.  Dined  with  my  old  friend  Severne,  an 
honest  Norfolk  man,  who  used  to  carry  his  milk 
about  the  streets,  when  I  first  knew  him,  but,  who 
is  now  a  man  of  considerable  property,  and,  like  a 
wise  man,  lives  in  the  same  modest  house  where  he 
formerly  lived.  Excellent  roast  beef  and  plum 
pudding.  At  his  house  I  found  an  Englishman, 
and,  from  Botley  too  !  I  had  been  told  of  such  a 
man  being  in  Philadelphia,  and  that  the  man  said, 
that  he  had  heard  of  me,  "  heard  of  such  a  gentleman , 
but  did  not  know  much  of  him.'"  This  was  odd  !  I 
was  desirous  of  seeing  this  man.  Mr.  Severne  got 
him  into  his  house.  His  name  is  Yere.  I  knew 
him  the  moment  I  saw  him  ;  and,  I  wondered  why 
it  was  that  he  knew  so  little  of  me.  I  found,  that  he 
wanted  work,  and  that  he  had  been  assisted  by  some 
society  in  Philadelphia.  He  said  he  was  lame,  and 
he  might  be  a  little,  perhaps.  /  offered  him  work  at 
once.  No  :  he  wanted  to  have  the  care  of  a  farm  ! 
"  Go,"  said  I,  "  for  shame,  and  ask  some  farmers  for 
"  work.  You  will  find  it  immediately,  and  with 
"  good  wages.  What  should  the  people  in  this 
"  country  see  in  your  face  to  induce  them  to  keep 
"  you  in  idleness.  They  did  not  send  for  you. 
"  You  are  a  young  man,  and  you  come  from  a 
"  country  of  able  labourers.  You  may  be  rich  if 
"  you  will  work.  This  gentleman  who  is  now 
"  about  to  cram  you  with  roast  beef  and  plum 
"  pudding  came  to  this  city  nearly  as  poor  as  you 
"  are  ;  and,  I  first  came  to  this  country  in  no  better 
"  plight.  Work,  and  I  wish  you  well ;  be  idle,  and 
D  29 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  1.  "  you  ought  to  starve."  He  told  me,  then,  that  he 
was  a  hoop-maker  :  and  yet,  observe,  he  wanted  to 
have  the  care  of  a  farm. 
N.B.  If  this  book  should  ever  reach  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Richard  Hinxman,  my  excellent  good  friend  of 
Chilling,  I  beg  him  to  show  this  note  to  Mr. 
Nicholas  Freemantle,  of  Botley.  He  will  know 
well  all  about  this  Vere.  Tell  Mr.  Freemantle, 
that  the  Spaniels  are  beautiful,  that  Woodcocks 
breed  here  in  abundance  ;  and  tell  him,  above  all, 
that  I  frequently  think  of  him  as  a  pattern  of  in- 
dustry in  business,  of  skill  and  perseverance  and 
good  humour  as  a  sportsman,  and  of  honesty  and 
kindness  as  a  neighbour.  Indeed,  I  have  pleasure 
in  thinking  of  all  my  Botley  neighbours,  except  the 
Parson,  who  for  their  sakes,  I  wish,  however,  was 
my  neighbour  now  :  for  here  he  might  pursue  his 
calling  very  quietly. 

2.  Open  weather.  Went  to  Bustleton,  after  having 
seen  Messrs.  Stevens  and  Pendrill,  and  advised 
them  to  forward  to  me  affidavits  of  what  they  knew 
about  Oliver,  the  spy  of  the  Boroughmongers. 

3.  Frost  in  the  morning.     Thaw  in  the  day. 

4.  Same  weather  in  the  night.     Rain  all  day. 

5.  Hard  frost.     Snow  3  inches  deep. 

6.  Hard  frost.  About  as  cold  as  a  hard  frost  in  January 
in  England. 

7.  Same  weather. 

8.  Thaw.     Dry  and  fine. 

9.  Same  weather.  Took  leave,  I  fear  for  ever,  of  my 
old  and  kind  friend,  James  Paul.  His  brother  and 
son  promise  to  come  and  see  me  here.  I  have 
pledged  myself  to  transplant  10  acres  of  Indian 
Corn  ;  and,  if  I  write,  in  August,  and  say  that  it  is 
good,  Thomas  Paul  has  promised  that  he  will  come  ; 
for,  he  thinks  that  the  scheme  is  a  mad  one. 

10.  Same  weather. — Mr.  Varee,  a  son-in-law  of  Mr. 
James  Paul,  brought  me  yesterday  to  another  son- 
in-law's,  Mr.  Ezra  Townshend  at  Bibery.  Here 
I  am  amongst  the  thick  of  the  Quakers,  whose  houses 
and  families  pleased  me  so  much  formerly,  and 
which  pleasure  is  all  now  revived.  Here  all  is  ease, 
plenty,  and  cheerfulness.  These  people  are  never 
giggling,  and  never  in  low-spirits.  Their  minds,  like 
their  dress,  are  simple  and  strong.  Their  kindness 
is  shown  more  in  acts  than  in  words.  Let  others 
say  what  they  will,  I  have  uniformly  found  those 
whom  I  have  intimately  known  of  this  sect,  sincere 

30 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  10.  and  upright  men  ;  and  I  verily  believe,  that  all  those 
charges  of  hypocrisy  and  craft,  that  we  hear  against 
Quakers,  arise  from  a  feeling  of  envy  :  envy  inspired 
by  seeing  them  possessed  of  such  abundance  of  all 
those  things,  which  are  the  fair  fruits  of  care,  in- 
dustry, economy,  sobriety,  and  order,  and  which  are 
justly  forbidden  to  the  drunkard,  the  glutton,  the 
prodigal,  and  the  lazy.  As  the  day  of  my  coming 
to  Mr.  Townshend's  had  been  announced  before- 
hand, several  of  the  young  men,  who  were  babies 
when  I  used  to  be  there  formerly,  came  to  see 
"  Billy  Cobbett,"  of  whom  they  had  heard  and 
read  so  much.  When  I  saw  them  and  heard  them, 
"  What  a  contrast"  said  I  to  myself,  "  with  the 
"  senseless,  gaudy,  upstart,  hectoring,  insolent,  and 
"  cruel  Yeomanry  Cavalry  in  England,  who,  while 
f '  they  grind  their  labourers  into  the  revolt  of  starva- 
"  tion,  gallantly  sally  forth  with  their  sabres,  to 
"  chop  them  down  at  the  command  of  a  Secretary 
"  of  State  ;  and,  who,  the  next  moment,  creep  and 
"  fawn  like  spaniels  before  their  Boroughmonger 
"  Landlords  !  "  At  Mr.  Townshend's  I  saw  a 
man,  in  his  service,  lately  from  Yorkshire,  but  an 
Irishman  by  birth.  He  wished  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  see  me.  He  had  read  many  of  my  "  little 
books."  I  shook  him  by  the  hand,  told  him  he  had 
now  got  a  good  house  over  his  head  and  a  kind 
employer,  and  advised  him  not  to  move  for  one  year, 
and  to  save  his  wages  during  that  year. 
11.  Same  open  weather. — I  am  now  at  Trenton,  in  New 
Jersey,  waiting  for  something  to  carry  me  on  towards 
New  York. — Yesterday,  Mr.  Townshend  sent  me 
on,  under  an  escort  of  Quakers,  to  Mr.  Anthony 
Taylor's.  He  was  formerly  a  merchant  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  now  lives  in  his  very  pretty  country- 
house,  on  a  very  beautiful  farm.  He  has  some  as 
fine  and  fat  oxen  as  we  generally  see  at  Smithfield 
market  in  London.  I  think  they  will  weight  sixty 
score  each.  Fine  farm  yard.  Everything  belonging 
to  the  farm  good,  but  what  a  neglectful  gardener  ! 
Saw  some  white  thorns  here  (brought  from  England) 
which,  if  I  had  wanted  any  proof,  would  have  clearly 
proved  to  me,  that  they  would,  with  less  care,  make 
as  good  hedges  here  as  they  do  at  Farnham  in  Surrey. 
But,  in  another  Part,  I  shall  give  full  information 
upon  this  head.  Here  my  escort  quitted  me  ;  but, 
luckily,  Mr.  Newbold,  who  lives  about  ten  miles 
nearer  Trenton  than  Mr.  Taylor  does,  brought  me 

3i 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  n.     on  to  his  house.     He  is  a  much  better  gardener,  or, 
rather,  to  speak  the  truth,  has  succeeded  a  better, 
whose  example  he  has  followed  in  part.     But,  his 
farm  yard  and  buildings  !     This  was  a  sight  indeed  I 
Forty  head  of  horn  cattle  in  a  yard,  enclosed  with  a 
stone  wall  ;   and  five  hundred  merino  ewes,  besides 
young  lambs,  in  the  finest,  most  spacious,  best  con- 
trived, and  most  substantially  built  sheds  I  ever  saw. 
The  barn  surpassed  all  that  I  had  seen  before.     His 
house  (large,  commodious,  and  handsome)  stands 
about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  turnpike  road, 
leading  from  Philadelphia  to  New  York,  and  looks 
on  and  over  the  Delaware  which  runs  parallel  with 
the  road,  and  has,  surrounding  it,  and  at  the  back 
of  it,  five  hundred  acres  of  land,  level  as  a  lawn,  and 
two  feet  deep  in  loom,  that  never  requires  a  water 
furrow.     This  was  the  finest  sight  that  I  ever  saw 
as  to  farm-buildings  and  land.     I  forgot  to  observe, 
that  I  saw  in  Mr.  Taylor's  service,  another  man 
recently  arrived  from  England.     A  Yorkshire  man. 
He,  too,  wished  to  see  me.     He  had  got  some  of  my 
"  little  books,"  which  he  had  preserved,  and  brought 
out  with  him.     Mr.  Taylor  was  much  pleased  with 
him.     An  active,  smart  man  ;   and,  if  he  follow  my 
advice,  to  remain  a  year  under  one  roof,  and  save 
his  wages,  he  will,  in  a  few  years,  be  a  rich  man. 
These  men  must  be  brutes  indeed  not  to  be  sensible 
of  the  great  kindness  and  gentleness  and  liberality, 
with  which  they  are  treated.     Mr.  Taylor  came, 
this  morning,  to  Mr.  Newbold's,  and  brought  me 
on  to  Trenton.     I  am  at  the  stage-tavern,  where  I 
have  just  dined  upon  cold  ham,  cold  veal,  butter 
and  cheese,  and  a  peach-pye  ;  nice  clean  room,  well 
furnished,   waiter    clean   and    attentive,    plenty   of 
milk  ;  and  charge,  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  !     I  thought, 
that  Mrs.  Joslin  at  Princestown  (as  I  went  on  to 
Philadelphia),   Mrs.   Benler   at   Harrisburgh,   Mr. 
Slaymaker  at   Lancaster,   and   Mrs.   M'Allister, 
were  low  enough  in  all  conscience  ;  but,  really,  this 
charge  of  Mrs.  Anderson  beats  all.     I  had  not  the 
face  to  pay  the  waiter  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  ;    but 
gave  him  half  a  dollar,  and  told  him  to  keep  the 
change.     He   is   a   black   man.     He   thanked   me. 
But,     they     never     ask     for     any     thing.        But, 
my    vehicle    is    come,    and    now    I    bid    adieu  to 
Trenton,  which  I  should  have  liked  better,  if  I  had 
not  seen  so  many  young  fellows  lounging  about  the 
streets,  and  leaning  against  door-posts,  with  quids 
32 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  11.  of  tobacco  in  their  mouths,  or  segars  stuck  between 
their  lips,  and  with  dirty  hands  and  faces.  Mr. 
Birkbeck's  complaint,  on  this  score,  is  perfectly- 
just. 

Brunswick,  New  Jersey.  Here  I  am,  after  a  ride 
of  about  30  miles,  since  two  o'clock,  in  what  is  called 
a  Jersey- waggon,  through  such  mud  as  I  never  saw 
before.  Up  to  the  stock  of  the  wheel  ;  and  yet  a  pair 
of  very  little  horses  have  dragged  us  through  it  in 
the  space  of  five  hours.  The  best  horses  and  driver, 
and  the  worst  roads  I  ever  set  my  eyes  on.  This 
part  of  Jersey  is  a  sad  spectacle,  after  leaving  the 
brightest  of  all  the  bright  parts  of  Pennsylvania. 
My  driver,  who  is  a  tavern-keeper  himself,  would 
have  been  a  very  pleasant  companion,  if  he  had  not 
drunk  so  much  spirits  on  the  road.  This  is  the  great 
misfortune  of  America  !  As  we  were  going  up  a  hill 
very  slowly,  I  could  perceive  him  looking  very  hard 
at  my  cheek  for  some  time.  At  last,  he  said  : 
"  I  am  wondering,  Sir,  to  see  you  look  so  fresh  and 
"  so  young,  considering  what  you  have  gone  through 
"  in  the  world  "  ;  though  I  cannot  imagine  how 
he  had  learnt  who  I  was.  "  I'll  tell  you,"  said  I, 
"  how  I  have  contrived  the  thing.  I  rise  early,  go 
"  to  bed  early,  eat  sparingly,  never  drink  any  thing 
"  stronger  than  small  beer,  shave  once  a  day,  and 
"  wash  my  hands  and  face  clean  three  times  a  day, 
"  at  the  very  least."  He  said,  that  was  too  much 
to  think  of  doing. 
12.  Warm  and  fair.  Like  an  English  first  of  May  in 
point  of  warmth.  I  got  to  Elizabeth  Town  Point 
through  beds  of  mud.  Twenty  minutes  too  late 
for  the  steam-boat.  Have  to  wait  here  at  the  tavern 
till  to-morrow.  Great  mortification.  Supped  with 
a  Connecticut  farmer,  who  was  taking  on  his 
daughter  to  Little  York  in  Pennsylvania.  The  rest 
of  his  family  he  took  on  in  the  fall.  He  has  migrated. 
His  reasons  were  these  :  he  has  five  sons,  the  eldest 
19  years  of  age,  and  several  daughters.  Connecticut 
is  thickly  settled.  He  has  not  the  means  to  buy 
farms  for  the  sons  there.  He,  therefore,  goes  and 
gets  cheap  land  in  Pennsylvania  ;  his  sons  will  assist 
him  to  clear  it  ;  and,  thus,  they  will  have  a  farm 
each.  To  a  man  in  such  circumstances,  and  "  born 
"  with  an  axe  in  one  hand,  and  a  gun  in  the  other," 
the  western  countries  are  desirable  ;  but  not  to 
English  farmers,  who  have  great  skill  in  fine  cultiva- 
tion, and  who   can  purchase  near  New  York  or 

33 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC, 


1818. 

March  12.  Philadelphia.  This  Yankee  (the  inhabitants  of 
Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  Massachusetts  and 
New  Hampshire,  only,  are  called  Yankees)  was 
about  the  age  of  Sir  Francis  Burdett,  and,  if  he 
had  been  dressed  in  the  usual  clothes  of  Sir  Francis, 
would  have  passed  for  him.  Features,  hair,  eyes, 
height,  make,  manner,  look,  hasty  utterance  at 
times,  musical  voice,  frank  deportment,  pleasant 
smile.  All  the  very  fac-simile  of  him.  I  had  some 
early  York  cabbage  seed  and  some  cauliflower  seed 
in  my  pocket,  which  had  been  sent  me  from  London, 
in  a  letter,  and  which  had  reached  me  at  Harris- 
burgh.     I  could  not  help  giving  him  a  little  of  each. 

13.  Same  weather.  A  fine  open  day.  Rather  a  cold 
May-day  for  England.  Came  to  New  York  by  the 
steam-boat.  Over  to  this  island  by  another,  took 
a  little  light  waggon,  that  whisked  me  home  over 
roads  as  dry  and  as  smooth  as  gravel  walks  in  an 
English  bishop's  garden  in  the  month  of  July. 
Great  contrast  with  the  bottomless  muds  of  New 
Jersey  !  As  I  came  along,  saw  those  fields  of  rye, 
which  were  so  green  in  December,  now  white.  Not 
a  single  sprig  of  green  on  the  face  of  tfye  earth. 
Found  that  my  man  had  ploughed  ten  acres  of  ground. 
The  frost  not  quite  clean  out  of  the  ground.  It  has 
penetrated  two  feet  eight  inches.  The  weather  here 
has  been  nearly  about  the  same  as  in  Pennsylvania  ; 
only  less  snow,  and  less  rain. 

14.  Open  weather.     Very  fine.     Not  quite  so  warm. 

15.  Same  weather.  Young  chickens.  I  hear  of  no  other 
in  the  neighbourhood.  This  is  the  effect  of  my 
warm  fowl-house  !  The  house  has  been  supplied 
with  eggs  all  the  winter,  without  any  interruption. 
I  am  told,  that  this  has  been  the  case  at  no  other 
house  hereabouts.     We  have  now  an  abundance  of 

^  eggs.     More    than    a    large    family    can    consume. 

*  We  send  some  to  market.  The  fowls,  I  find,  have 
wanted  no  feeding  except  during  the  snow,  or,  in 
the  very,  very  cold  days,  when  they  did  not  come  out 
of  their  house  all  the  day.  A  certain  proof  that  they 
like  the  warmth. 

16.  Little  frost  in  the  morning.     Very  fine  day. 

17.  Precisely  same  weather. 

18.  Same  weather. 

19.  Same  weather. 

20.  Same  weather.  Opened  several  pits,  in  which  I  had 
preserved  all  sorts  of  garden  plants  and  roots,  and 
apples.     Valuable      experiments.      As      useful     in 


34 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  20.  England  as  here,  though  not  so  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. I  shall  communicate  these  in  another 
part  of  ray  work,  under  the  head  of  gardening. 

21.  Same  weather.  The  day  like  a  fine  May-day  in 
England.  I  am  writing  without  fire,  and  in  my 
waistcoat  without  coat. 

22.  Rain  all  last  night,  and  all  this  day. 

23.  Mild  and  fine.  A  sow  had  a  litter  of  pigs  in  the 
leaves  under  the  trees.  Judge  of  the  weather  by  this. 
The  wind  blows  cold  ;  but,  she  has  drawn  together 
great  heaps  of  leaves,  and  protects  her  young  ones 
with  surprising  sagacity  and  exemplary  care  and 
fondness. 

24.  Same  weather. 

25.  Still  mild  and  fair. 

26.  Very  cold  wind.  We  try  to  get  the  sow  and  pigs 
into  the  buildings.  But  the  pigs  do  not  follow,  and 
we  cannot,  with  all  our  temptations  of  corn  and  all 
our  caresses,  get  the  sow  to  move  without  them  by 
her  side.  She  must  remain  'till  they  choose  to 
travel.  How  does  nature,  through  the  conduct  of 
this  animal,  reproach  those  mothers,  who  cast  off 
their  new-born  infants  to  depend  on  a  hireling's 
breast  !  Let  every  young  man,  before  he  marry, 
read,  upon  this  subject,  the  pretty  poem  of  Mr. 
Roscoe,  called  "  the  Nurse  "  ;  and,  let  him  also 
read,  on  the  same  subject,  the  eloquent,  beautiful, 
and  soul-affecting  passage,  in  Rousseau's  "  Emile." 

27.  Fine  warm  day.  Then  high  wind,  rain,  snow,  and 
hard  frost  before  morning. 

28.  Hard  frost.     Snow  3  inches  deep. 

29.  Frost  in  the  night  ;  but,  all  thawed  in  the  day,  and 
very  warm. 

30.  Frost  in  night.     Fine  warm  day. 

31.  Fine  warm  day. — As  the  winter  is  now  gone,  let  us 
take  a  look  back  at  its  inconveniences  compared  with 
those  of  an  English  Winter. — We  have  had  three 
months  of  it  ;  for,  if  we  had  a  few  sharp  days  in 
December,  we  have  had  many  very  fine  and  without 
fire  in  March.  In  England  winter  really  begins  in 
November,  and  does  not  end  'till  Mid-March. 
Here  we  have  greater  cold  :  there  four  times  as  much 
wet.  I  have  had  my  great  coat  on  only  twice,  except 
when  sitting  in  a  stage,  travelling.  I  have  had 
gloves  on  no  oftener  ;  for,  I  do  not,  like  the  Clerks 
of  the  Houses  of  Boroughrnongers,  write  in  gloves. 
I  seldom  meet  a  waggoner  with  gloves  or  great  coat 
on.     It  is  generally  so  dry.     This  is  the  great  friend 

35 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

March  31, 


April 


9- 
10. 


of  man  and  beast.  Last  summer  /  wrote  home  for 
nails  to  nail  my  shoes  for  zuinter.  I  could  find  none 
here.  What  a  foolish  people,  not  to  have  shoe- 
nails  !  I  forgot,  that  it  was  likely,  that  the  absence 
of  shoe-nails  argued  an  absence  of  the  want  of  them. 
The  nails  are  not  come  ;  and  I  have  not  wanted 
them.  There  is  no  dirt,  except  for  about  ten  days 
at  the  breaking  up  of  the  frost.  The  dress  of  a 
labourer  does  not  cost  half  so  much  as  in  England. 
This  dryness  is  singularly  favourable  to  all  animals. 
They  are  hurt  far  less  by  dry  cold,  than  by  warm 
drip,  drip,  drip,  as  it  is  in  England. — There  has  been 
nothing  green  in  the  garden,  that  is  to  say,  above 
ground,  since  December  ;  but,  we  have  had,  all 
winter,  and  have  now,  white  cabbages,  green  savoys, 
parsnips,  carrots,  beets,  young  onions,  radishes,  white 
turnips,  Swedish  turnips,  and  potatoes  :  and  all  these 
in  abundance  (except  radishes,  which  were  a  few 
to  try),  and  always  at  hand  at  a  minute's  warning. 
The  modes  of  preserving  will  be  given  in  another 
part  of  the  work.  What  can  any  body  want  more 
than  these  things  in  the  garden  way  ?  However 
it  would  be  very  easy  to  add  to  the  catalogue.  Apples, 
quinces,  cherries,  currants,  peaches,  dried  in  the 
summer,  and  excellent  for  tarts  and  pies.  Apples 
in  their  raw  state,  as  many  as  we  please.  My  own 
stock  being  gone,  I  have  trucked  turnips  for  apples  ; 
and  shall  thus  have  them,  if  I  please,  'till  apples 
come  again  on  the  trees.  I  give  two  bushels  and  a 
half  of  Swedish  turnips  for  one  of  apples  ;  and, 
mind,  this  is  on  the  last  day  of  March. — I  have  here 
stated  facts,  whereby  to  judge  of  the  winter  ;  and  I 
leave  the  English  reader  to  judge  for  himself,  I 
myself  decidedly  preferring  the  American  winter. 
Very  fine  and  warm. 
Same  weather. 
Same  weather. 
Rain  all  day. 

Rain  all  day.     Our  cistern  and  pool  full. 
Warm,  but  no  sun. — Turkeys  begin  to  lay. 
Same    weather.     My    first    spring    operations    in 
gardening  are  now  going  on  ;    but  I  must  reserve 
an  account  of  them  for  another  Part  of  my  work. 
Warm  and  fair. 
Rain  and  rather  cold. 

Fair  but  cold.     It  rained  but  yesterday,  and  we  are 
to-day,  feeding  sheep  and  lambs  with  grain  of  corn 
and   with   oats,   upon   the  ground  in   the   orchard. 
36 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


1818. 

April  10.     Judge,  then,  of  the  cleanness  and  convenience  of 
this  soil  ! 

11.  Fine  and  warm. 

12.  Warm  and  fair. 

13.  Warm  and  fair. 

14.  Drying  wind  and  miserably  cold.  Fires  again  in 
day-time,  which  I  have  not  had  for  some  days  past. 

15.  Warm,  like  a  fine  May-day  in  England.  We  are 
planting  out  selected  roots  for  seed. 

16.  Rain  all  last  night. — Warm.     Very  fine  indeed. 

17.  Fine  warm  day.  Heavy  thunder  and  rain  at  night. 
The  Martins  (not  swallows)  are  come  into  the  barn 
and  are  looking  out  sites  for  the  habitations  of 
their  future  young  ones. 

18.  Cold  and  raw.  Damp,  too,  which  is  extremely 
rare.  The  worst  day  I  have  yet  seen  during  the 
year.  Stops  the  grass,  stops  the  swelling  of  the 
buds.  The  young  chickens  hardly  peep  out  from 
under  the  wings  of  the  hens.  The  lambs  don't 
play,  but  stand  knit  up.  The  pigs  growl  and  squeak  ; 
and  the  birds  are  gone  away  to  the  woods  again. 

19.  Same  weather  with  an  Easterly  wind.  Just  such  a 
wind  as  that,  which,  in  March,  brushes  round  the 
corners  of  the  streets  of  London,  and  makes  the  old, 
mufned-up  debauchees  hurry  home  with  acking 
joints.     Some  hail  to-day. 

20.  Same  weather.  Just  the  weather  to  give  drunkards 
the  "  blue  devils." 

21.  Frost  this  morning.  Ice  as  thick  as  a  dollar. — 
Snow  three  times.  Once  to  cover  the  ground. 
Went  off  again  directly. 

22.  Frost  and  ice  in  the  morning,  A  very  fine  day,  but 
not  warm.     Dandelions  blow. 

23.  Sharp  white  frost  in  morning.  Warm  and  fine 
day. 

24.  Warm  night,  warm  and  fair  day.  And  here  I  close 
my  Journal  :  for,  I  am  in  haste  to  get  my  manu- 
script away  ;  and  there  now  wants  only  ten  days 
to  complete  the  year. — I  resume,  now,  the  Numbering 
of  my  Paragraphs,  having  begun  my  Journal  at  the 
close  of  Paragraph  No.  20. 

21.  Let  us,  now,  take  a  survey,  or  rather  glance,  at  the  face, 
which  nature  now  wears.  The  grass  begins  to  afford  a  good  deal 
for  sheep  and  for  my  grazing  English  pigs,  and  the  cows  and  oxen 
get  a  little  food  from  it.  The  pears,  apples,  and  other  fruit  trees, 
have  not  made  much  progress  in  the  swelling  or  bursting  of  their 
buds.     The  buds  of  the  weeping- willow  have  bursted  (for,  in  spite 

37 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


of  that  conceited  ass,  Mr.  James  Perry,  to  burst  is  a  regular  verb, 
and  vulgar  pedants  only  make  it  irregular),  and  those  of  a  Lilac, 
in  a  warm  place,  are  almost  bursted,  which  is  a  great  deal  better 
than  to  say,  "  almost  burst."  Oh,  the  coxcomb  !  As  if  an 
absolute  pedagogue  like  him  could  injure  me  by  his  criticisms  ! 
And,  as  if  an  error  like  this,  even  if  it  had  been  one,  could  have 
any  thing  to  do  with  my  capacity  for  developing  principles,  and 
for  simplifying  things,  which,  in  their  nature,  are  of  great  com- 
plexity ! — The  oaks,  which,  in  England,  have  now  their  sap  in 
full  flow,  are  here  quite  unmoved  as  yet.  In  the  gardens  in  general 
there  is  nothing  green,  while,  in  England,  they  have  broccoli  to  eat, 
early  cabbages  planted  out,  coleworts  to  eat,  peas  four  or  five 
inches  high.  Yet,  we  shall  have  green  peas  and  loaved  cabbages 
as  soon  as  they  will.  We  have  sprouts  from  the  cabbage  stems 
preserved  under  cover  ;  the  Swedish  turnip  is  giving  me  greens 
from  bulbs  planted  out  in  March  ;  and  I  have  some  broccoli  tooy 
just  coming  on  for  use.  How  I  have  got  this  broccoli  I  must 
explain  in  my  Gardeners  Guide  :  for  write  one  I  must.  I  never 
can  leave  this  country  without  an  attempt  to  make  every  farmer 
a  gardener. — In  the  meat  way,  we  have  beef,  mutton,  bacon, 
fowls,  a  calf  to  kill  in  a  fortnight's  time,  sucking  pigs  when  we 
choose,  lamb  nearly  fit  to  kill  ;  and  all  of  our  own  breeding,  or 
our  own  feeding.  We  kill  an  ox,  send  three  quarters  and  the  hide 
to  market  and  keep  one  quarter.  Then  a  sheep,  which  we  use 
in  the  same  way.  The  bacon  is  always  ready.  Some  fowls 
always  fatting.  Young  ducks  are  just  coming  out  to  meet  the 
green  peas.  Chickens  (the  earliest)  as  big  as  American  Partridges 
(misnamed  quails),  and  ready  for  the  asparagus,  which  is  just 
coming  out  of  the  ground.  Eggs  at  all  times  more  than  we  can 
consume.  And,  if  there  be  any  one,  who  wants  better  fare  than 
this,  let  the  grumbling  glutton  come  to  that  poverty,  which 
Solomon  has  said  shall  be  his  lot.  And,  the  great  thing  of  all, 
is,  that  here,  every  man,  even  every  labourer,  may  live  as  well  as 
this,  if  he  will  be  sober  and  industrious. 

22.  There  are  two  things,  which  I  have  not  yet  mentioned,  and 
which  are  almost  wholly  wanting  here,  while  they  are  so  amply 
enjoyed  in  England.  The  singing  birds  and  the  flowers.  Here  are 
many  birds  in  summer,  and  some  of  very  beautiful  plumage. 
There  are  some  wild  flowers,  and  some  English  flowers  in  the  best 
gardens.  But,  generally  speaking,  they  are  birds  without  song, 
and  flowers  without  smell.  The  linnet  (more  than  a  thousand  of 
which  I  have  heard  warbling  upon  one  scrubbed  oak  on  the  sand 
hills  in  Surrey),  the  sky-lark,  the  goldfinch,  the  wood-lark,  the 
nightingale,  the  bull-finch,  the  black-bird,  the  thrush,  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  singing  tribe  are  wanting  in  these  beautiful  woods  and 
orchards  of  garlands. — When  these  latter  have  dropped  their 
bloom,  all  is  gone  in  the  flowery  way.  No  shepherd's  rose,  no 
honey-suckle,  none  of  that  endless  variety  of  beauties  that  decorate 
the  hedges  and  the  meadows  in  England.     No  daisies,  no  prim- 

38 


CLIMATE,  SEASONS,  ETC. 


roses,  no  cowslips,  no  blue-bells,  no  daffodils,  which,  as  if  it  were 
not  enough  for  them  to  charm  the  sight  and  the  smell,  must  have 
names,  too,  to  delight  the  ear.  All  these  are  wanting  in  America . 
Here  are,  indeed,  birds,  which  bear  the  name  of  robin,  blackbird, 
thrush,  and  goldfinch  ;  but,  alas  !  the  thing  at  Westminster  has, 
in  like  manner,  the  name  of  parliament,  and  speaks  the  voice  of  the 
people,  whom  it  pretends  to  represent,  in  much  about  the  same 
degree  that  the  black-bird  here  speaks  the  voice  of  its  namesake 
in  England. 

23.  Of  health,  I  have  not  yet  spoken,  and,  though  it  will  be  a 
subject  of  remark  in  another  part  of  my  work,  it  is  a  matter  of  too 
deep  interest  to  be  wholly  passed  over  here.  In  the  first  place, 
as  to  myself,  I  have  always  had  excellent  health  ;  but,  during  a 
year,  in  England,  I  used  to  have  a  cold  or  two  ;  a  trifling  sore 
throat ;  or  something  in  that  way.  Here,  I  have  neither,  though 
I  was  more  than  two  months  of  the  winter  travelling  about,  and 
sleeping  in  different  beds.  My  family  have  been  more  healthy 
than  in  England,  though,  indeed,  there  has  seldom  been  any 
serious  illness  in  it.  We  have  had  but  one  visit  from  any  Doctor. 
Thus  much,  for  the  present,  on  this  subject.  I  said,  in  the  second 
Register  I  sent  home,  that  this  climate  was  not  so  good  as  that  of 
England.  Experience,  observation,  a  careful  attention  to  real 
facts,  have  convinced  me  that  it  is,  upon  the  whole,  a  better  climate  ; 
though  I  tremble  lest  the  tools  of  the  Boroughmongers  should  cite 
this  as  a  new  and  most  flagrant  instance  of  inconsistency.  England 
is  my  country,  and  to  England  I  shall  return.  I  like  it  best,  and 
shall  always  like  it  best  ;  but,  then,  in  the  word  England,  many 
things  are  included  besides  climate  and  soil  and  seasons,  and 
eating  and  drinking. 

24.  In  the  Second  Part  of  this  work,  which  will  follow  the  first 
Part  in  the  course  of  two  months,  I  shall  take  particular  pains  to 
detail  all  that  is  within  my  knowledge,  which  I  think  likely  to  be 
useful  to  persons  who  intend  coming  to  this  country  from  England. 
I  shall  take  every  particular  of  the  expence  of  supporting  a  family, 
and  show  what  are  the  means  to  be  obtained  for  that  purpose,  and 
how  they  are  to  be  obtained.  My  intending  to  return  to  England 
ought  to  deter  no  one  from  coming  hither  ;  because,  I  was  resolved, 
if  I  had  life,  to  return,  and  I  expressed  that  resolution  before  I 
came  away.  But  if  there  are  good  and  virtuous  men,  who  can 
do  no  good  there,  and  who,  by  coming  hither  can  withdraw  the 
fruits  of  their  honest  labour  from  the  grasp  of  the  Borough  tyrants, 
I  am  bound,  if  I  speak  of  this  country  at  all,  to  tell  them  the  real 
truth  ;   and  this,  as  far  as  I  have  gone,  I  have  now  done. 


39 


CHAPTER  II. 

RUTA  EAGA. 

Culture,  Mode  of  preserving,  and  uses  of  the  Ruta  Baga, 
sometimes  called  the  Russia,  and  sometimes  the  Swedish 
Turnip. 

Description  of  the  Plant. 

25.  It  is  my  intention,  as  notified  in  the  public  papers,  to  put  into 
print  an  account  of  all  the  experiments,  which  I  have  made,  and 
shall  make  in  Farming  and  in  Gardening  upon  this  Island.  I, 
several  years  ago,  long  before  tyranny  showed  its  present  horrid 
front  in  England,  formed  the  design  of  sending  out,  to  be  pub- 
lished in  this  country,  a  treatise  on  the  cultivation  of  the  root  and 
green  crops,  as  cattle,  sheep,  and  hog  food.  This  design  was 
suggested  by  the  reading  of  the  following  passage  in  Mr.  Chan- 
cellor Livingston's  Essay  on  Sheep,  which  I  received  in  1812. 
After  having  stated  the  most  proper  means  to  be  employed  in 
order  to  keep  sheep  and  lambs  during  the  winter  months,  he  adds  : 
"  Having  brought  our  flocks  through  the  winter,  we  come  now  to 
"  the  most  critical  season,  that  is,  the  latter  end  of  March  and  the 
"  month  of  April.  At  this  time  the  ground  being  bare,  the  sheep 
"  will  refuse  to  eat  their  hay,  while  the  scanty  picking  of  grass, 
"  and  its  purgative  quality,  will  disable  them  from  taking  the 
"  nourishment  that  is  necessary  to  keep  them  up.  If  they  fall 
"  away  their  wool  will  be  injured,  and  the  growth  of  their  lambs 
"  will  be  stopped,  and  even  many  of  the  old  sheep  will  be  carried 
"  off  by  the  dysentery.  To  provide  food  for  this  season  is  very 
"  difficult.  Turnips  and  Cabbages  will  rot,  and  bran  they  will  not 
"  eat,  after  having  been  fed  on  it  all  the  winter.  Potatoes,  how- 
"  ever,  and  the  Swedish  Turnip,  called  Ruta  Baga,  may  be  use- 
"  fully  applied  at  this  time,  and  so,  I  think,  might  Parsnips  and 
"  Carrots.  But,  as  few  of  us  are  in  the  habit  of  cultivating  these 
"  plants  to  the  extent  which  is  necessary  for  the  support  of  a  large 
"  flock,  we  must  seek  resources  more  within  our  reach."  And  then 
the  Chancellor  proceeds  to  recommend  the  leaving  the  second 
growth  of  clover  uncut,  in  order  to  produce  early  shoots  from 

40 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


sheltered  buds  for  the  sheep  to  eat  until  the  coming  of  the  natural 
grass  and  the  general  pasturage. 

26.  I  was  much  surprised  at  reading  this  passage  ;  having 
observed,  when  I  lived  in  Pennsylvania,  how  prodigiously  the 
root  crops  of  every  kind  flourished  and  succeeded  with  only 
common  skill  and  care  ;  and,  in  181 5,  having  by  that  time  had 
many  crops  of  Ruta  Baga  exceeding  thirty  tons,  or,  about  one 
thousand  five  hundred  heaped  bushels  to  the  acre,  at  Botley,  I  formed 
the  design  of  sending  out  to  America  a  treatise  on  the  culture 
and  uses  of  that  root,  which,  I  was  perfectly  well  convinced, 
could  be  raised  with  more  ease  here  than  in  England,  and,  that 
it  might  be  easily  preserved  during  the  whole  year,  if  necessary,  I 
had  proved  in  many  cases. 

27.  If  Mr.  Chancellor  Livingston,  whose  public-spirit  is 
manifested  fully  in  his  excellent  little  work,  which  he  modestly 
calls  an  Essay,  could  see  my  ewes  and  lambs,  and  hogs  and  cattle, 
at  this  "  critical  season  "  (I  write  on  the  27th  of  March),  with  more 
Ruta  Baga  at  their  command  than  they  have  mouths  to  employ 
on  it  ;  if  he  could  see  me,  who  am  on  a  poor  exhausted  piece  of 
land,  and  who  found  it  covered  with  weeds  and  brambles  in  the 
month  of  June  last,  who  found  no  manure,  and  who  have  brought 
none  ;  if  he  could  see  me  overstocked,  not  with  mouths,  but  with 
food,  owing  to  a  little  care  in  the  cultivation  of  this  invaluable 
root,  he  would,  I  am  sure,  have  reason  to  be  convinced,  that,  if 
any  farmer  in  the  United  States  is  in  want  of  food  at  this  pinching 
season  of  the  year,  the  fault  is  neither  in  the  soil  nor  in  the  climate. 

28.  It  is,  therefore,  of  my  mode  of  cultivating  this  root  on  this 
Island  that  I  mean,  at  present,  to  treat  ;  to  which  matter  I  shall 
add,  in  another  Part  of  my  work,  an  account  of  my  experiments  as 
to  the  Mangel  Wurzel,  or  Scarcity  Root  ;  though,  as  will  be 
seen,  I  deem  that  root,  except  in  particular  cases,  of  very  inferior 
importance.  The  parsnip,  the  carrot,  the  cabbage,  are  all  ex- 
cellent in  their  kind  and  in  their  uses  ;  but,  as  to  these,  I  have 
not  yet  made,  upon  a  scale  sufficiently  large  here,  such  experi- 
ments as  would  warrant  me  in  speaking  with  any  degree  of  con- 
fidence. Of  these,  and  other  matters,  I  propose  to  treat  in  a 
future  Part,  which  I  shall,  probably,  publish  towards  the  latter 
end  of  this  present  year. 

29.  The  Ruta  Baga  is  a  sort  of  turnip  well  known  in  the  State 
of  New  York,  where,  under  the  name  of  Russia  turnip,  it  is  used 
for  the  Table  from  February  to  July.  But,  as  it  may  be  more 
of  a  stranger  in  other  parts  of  the  country,  it  seems  necessary  to 
give  it  enough  of  description  to  enable  every  reader  to  distinguish 
it  from  every  other  sort  of  turnip. 

30.  The  leaf  of  every  other  sort  of  turnip  is  of  a  yellowish  green, 
while  the  leaf  of  the  Ruta  Baga  is  of  a  blueish  green,  like  the  green 
of  peas,  when  of  nearly  their  full  size,  or  like  the  green  of  a  young 
and  thrifty  early  Yorkshire  cabbage.  Hence  it  is,  I  suppose,  that 
some  persons  have  called  it  the  Cabbage-turnip.     But  the  charac- 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


teristics  the  most  decidedly  distinctive  are  these  :  that  the  outside 
of  the  bulb  of  the  Ruta  Eaga  is  of  a  greenish  hue,  mixed,  towards 
the  top,  with  a  colour  bordering  on  a  red  ;  and,  that  the  inside 
of  the  bulb,  if  the  sort  be  true  and  pure,  is  of  a  deep  yellow,  nearly 
as  deep  as  that  of  gold. 


Mode  of  saving  and  of  preserving  the  Seed. 

31.  This  is  rather  a  nice  business,  and  should  be,  by  no  means, 
executed  in  a  negligent  manner.  For,  on  the  well  attending  to 
this,  much  of  the  seed  depends  :  and,  it  is  quite  surprizing  how 
great  losses  are,  in  the  end,  frequently  sustained  by  the  saving 
in  this  part  of  the  business,  of  an  hour's  labour  or  attention.  I 
one  year,  lost  more  than  half  of  what  would  have  been  an  immense 
crop,  by  a  mere  piece  of  negligence  in  my  bailiff  as  to  the  seed  ; 
and  I  caused  a  similar  loss  to  a  gentleman  in  Berkshire,  who  had 
his  seed  out  of  the  same  parcel  that  mine  was  taken  from,  and  who 
had  sent  many  miles  for  it,  in  order  to  have  the  best  in  the  world. 

32.  The  Ruta  Baga  is  apt  to  degenerate,  if  the  seed  be  not  saved 
with  care.  We,  in  England,  select  the  plants  to  be  saved  for  seed. 
We  examine  well  to  find  out  those  that  run  least  into  neck  and 
green.  We  reject  all  such  as  approach  at  all  towards  a  whitish 
colour,  or  which  are  even  of  a  greenish  colour  towards  the  neck> 
where  there  ought  to  be  a  little  reddish  cast. 

33.  Having  selected  the  plants  with  great  care,  we  take  them  up 
out  of  the  place  where  they  have  grown,  and  plant  them  in  a  plot 
distant  from  every  thing  of  the  turnip  or  cabbage  kind  which  is  to 
bear  seed.  In  this  Island,  I  am  now,  at  this  time,>  planting  mine 
for  seed  (27th  March),  taking  all  our  English  precautions.  It  is 
probable,  that  they  would  do  very  well,  if  taken  out  of  a  heap  to  be 
transplanted,  if  well  selected  ;  but,  lest  this  should  not  do  well,  I 
have  kept  my  selected  plants  all  the  winter  in  the  ground  in  my 
garden,  well  covered  with  corn-stalks  and  leaves  from  the  trees  ; 
and,  indeed,  this  is  so  very  little  a  matter  to  do,  that  it  would  be 
monstrous  to  suppose,  that  any  farmer  would  neglect  it  on  account 
of  the  labour  and  trouble  ;  especially  when  we  consider,  that  the 
seed  of  two  or  three  turnips  is  more  than  sufficient  to  sozv  an  acre  of 
land.  I,  on  one  occasion,  planted  twenty  turnips  for  seed,  and 
the  produce,  besides  what  the  little  birds  took  as  their  share  for 
having  kept  down  the  Caterpillars,  was  twenty-two  and  a  half 
pounds  of  clean  seed. 

34.  The  sun  is  so  ardent  and  the  weather  so  fair  here,  compared 
with  the  drippy  and  chilly  climate  of  England,  while  the  birds  here 
never  touch  this  sort  of  seed,  that  a  small  plot  of  ground  would,  if 
well  managed,  produce  a  great  quantity  of  seed.  Whether  it 
would  degenerate  is  a  matter  that  I  have  not  yet  ascertained  ;  but 
which  I  am  about  to  ascertain  this  year. 

42 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


35.  That  all  these  precautions  of  selecting  the  plants  and  trans- 
planting them  are  necessary,  I  know  by  experience.  I,  on  one 
occasion,  had  sown  all  my  own  seed,  and  the  plants  had  been 
carried  off  by  the  fly,  of  which  I  shall  have  to  speak  presently. 
I  sent  to  a  person  who  had  raised  some  seed,  which  I  afterwards 
found  to  have  come  from  turnips,  left  promiscuously  to  go  to 
seed  in  a  part  of  a  field  where  they  had  been  sown.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  a  good  third  part  of  my  crop  had  no  bulbs  :  but 
consisted  of  a  sort  of  rape,  all  leaves,  and  stalks  growing  very- 
high.  While  even  the  rest  of  the  crop  bore  no  resemblance, 
either  in  point  of  size  or  of  quality,  to  turnips,  in  the  same  field, 
from  seed  saved  in  a  proper  manner,  though  this  latter  was  sown 
at  a  later  period. 

36.  As  to  the  preserving  of  the  seed,  it  is  an  invariable  rule 
applicable  to  all  seeds,  that  seed,  kept  in  the  pod  to  the  very  time 
of  sowing,  will  vegetate  more  quickly  and  more  vigorously  than 
seed  which  has  been  some  time  threshed  out.  But,  turnip  seed 
will  do  very  well,  if  threshed  out  as  soon  as  ripe,  and  kept  in  a  dry 
place,  and  not  too  much  exposed  to  the  air.  A  bag,  hung  up  in  a 
dry  room,  is  the  depository  that  I  use.  But,  before  being  threshed 
out,  the  seed  should  be  quite  ripe,  and,  if  cut  off,  or  pulled  up, 
which  latter  is  the  best  way,  before  the  pods  are  quite  dead,  the 
whole  should  be  suffered  to  lie  in  the  sun  till  the  pods  are  perfectly 
dead,  in  order  that  the  seed  may  imbibe  its  full  nourishment, 
and  come  to  complete  perfection  ;  otherwise  the  seed  will  wither, 
much  of  it  will  not  grow  at  all,  and  that  which  does  grow  will 
produce  plants  inferior  to  those  proceeding  from  well-ripened 
seed. 


Time  of  Sowing. 

37.  Our  time  of  sowing  in  England  is  from  the  first  to  the 
twentieth  of  June,  though  some  persons  sow  in  May,  which  is  still 
better.  This  was  one  of  the  matters  of  the  most  deep  interest 
with  me,  when  I  came  to  Hyde  Park.  I  could  not  begin  before 
the  month  of  June  ;  for  I  had  no  ground  ready.  But,  then,  I 
began  with  great  care,  on  the  second  of  June,  sowing,  in  small 
plots,  once  every  week,  till  the  30th  of  July.  In  every  case  the  seed 
took  well  and  the  plants  grew  well  ;  but,  having  looked  at  the 
growth  of  the  plots  first  sown,  and  calculated  upon  the  probable 
advancement  of  them,  I  fixed  upon  the  26th  of  June  for  the  sowing 
of  my  principal  crop . 

38.  I  was  particularly  anxious  to  know,  whether  this  country 
were  cursed  with  the  Turnip  Fly,  which  is  so  destructive  in 
England.  It  is  a  little  insect  about  the  size  of  a  bed  flea,  and 
jumps   away  from  all   approaches   exactly  like  that  insect.     It 

abounds  sometimes,  in  quantities,  so  great  as  to  eat  up  all  the 
young  plants,  on  hundreds  and  thousands  of  acres,  in  a  single 

43 


RUT  J  BAG  A  CULTURE 


day.  It  makes  its  attack  when  the  plants  are  in  the  seed-leaf : 
and,  it  is  so  very  generally  prevalent,  that  it  is  always  an  even 
chance,  at  least,  that  every  field  that  is  sown  will  be  thus  wholly 
destroyed.  There  is  no  remedy  but  that  of  ploughing  and  sowing 
again  ;  and  this  is  frequently  repeated  three  times,  and  even  then 
there  is  no  crop.  Volumes  upon  volumes  have  been  written  on 
the  means  of  preventing,  or  mitigating,  this  calamity  ;  but  nothing 
effectual  has  ever  been  discovered  ;  and,  at  last,  the  only  means 
of  insuring  a  crop  of  Ruta  Baga  in  England,  is,  to  raise  the  plants 
in  small  plots,  sown  at  many  different  times,  in  the  same  manner 
as  cabbages  are  sown,  and,  like  cabbages,  transplant  them  :  of 
which  mode  of  culture  I  shall  speak  by  and  by.  It  is  very  singular, 
that  a  field  sown  one  day.  wholly  escapes,  while  a  field  sown  the 
next  day,  is  wholly  destroyed.  Nay,  a  part  of  the  same  field,  sown 
in  the  morning,  will  sometimes  escape,  while  the  part,  sown  in  the 
afternoon,  will  be  destroyed  ;  and,  sometimes  the  afternoon 
sowing  is  the  part  that  is  spared.  To  find  a  remedy  for  this  evil 
has  posed  all  the  heads  of  all  the  naturalists  and  chemists  of 
England.  As  an  evil,  the  smut  in  wheat  ;  the  wiieworm  ;  the 
grubs  above-ground  and  underground  ;  the  caterpillars,  green 
and  black  ;  the  slug,  red,  black,  and  grey  :  though  each  a  great 
tormentor,  are  nothing.  Against  all  these  there  is  some  remedy, 
though  expensive  and  plaguing  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  their  ravages  are 
comparatively  slow,  and  their  causes  are  known.  But,  the  Turnip 
Fly  is  the  English  farmer's  evil  genius.  To  discover  a  remedy  for, 
or  the  cause  of,  this  plague,  has  been  the  object  of  inquiries, 
experiments,  analyses,  innumerable.  Premium  upon  piemium 
offered,  has  only  produced  pretended  remedies,  which  have  led 
to  disappointment  and  mortification  ;  and,  I  have  no  hesitation 
to  say,  that,  if  any  man  could  find  out  a  real  remedy,  and  could 
communicate  the  means  of  cure,  while  he  kept  the  nature  of  the 
means  a  secret,  he  would  be  much  richer  than  he  who  should  dis- 
cover the  longitude  ;  for  about  fifty  thousand  farmers  would  very 
cheerfully  pay  him  ten  guineas  a  year  each. 

39.  The  reader  will  easily  judge,  then,  of  my  anxiety  to  know, 
whether  this  mortal  enemy  of  the  farmer  existed  in  Long  Island. 
This  was  the  first  question  which  I  put  to  every  one  of  my  neigh- 
bours, and  I  augured  good  from  their  not  appearing  to  understand 
what  I  meant.  However,  as  my  little  plots  of  turnips  came  up 
successively,  I  watched  them  as  our  farmers  do  their  fields  in 
England.  To  my  infinite  satisfaction,  I  found  that  my  alarms 
had  been  groundless.  This  circumstance,  besides  others  that  I 
have  to  mention  by  and  by,  gives  to  the  stock-farmer  in  America 
so  great  an  advantage  over  the  farmer  in  England,  or  in  any  part 
of  the  middle  and  northern  parts  of  Europe,  that  it  is  truly  wonder- 
ful that  the  culture  of  this  root  has  not,  long  ago,  become  general 
in  this  country. 

40.  The  time  of  sowing,  then,  may  be,  as  circumstances  may 
require,  from  the  25th  of  June,  to  about  the  10th  of  jfidy,  as  the 

44 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


result  of  my  experiments  will  now  show.  The  plants  sown 
during  the  first  fifteen  days  of  June  grew  well,  and  attained  great 
size  and  weight  ;  but,  though  they  did  not  actually  go  off  to  seed, 
they  were  very  little  short  of  so  doing.  They  rose  into  large  and 
long  necks,  and  sent  out  sprouts  from  the  upper  part  of  the  bulb  ; 
and,  then,  the  bulb  itself  (which  is  the  thing  sought  after)  swelled 
no  more.  The  substance  of  the  bulb  became  hard  and  stringy  ; 
and  the  turnips,  upon  the  whole,  were  smaller  and  of  greatly 
inferior  quality,  compared  with  those  which  were  sown  at  the 
proper  time. 

41.  The  turnips  sown  between  the  15th  and  26th  of  June,  had 
all  these  appearances  and  quality,  only  in  a  less  degree.  But, 
those  which  were  sown  on  the  26th  of  June,  were  perfect  in  shape, 
size,  and  quality  ;  and,  though  I  have  grown  them  larger  in 
England,  it  was  not  done  without  more  manure  upon  half  an  acre 
than  I  scratched  together  to  put  upon  seven  acres  at  Hyde  Park  ; 
but  of  this  I  shall  speak  more  particularly  when  I  come  to  the 
quantity  of  crop. 

42.  The  sowings  which  were  made  after  the  26th  of  June,  and 
before  the  10th  of  July,  did  very  well  ;  and,  one  particular  sowing 
on  the  9th  of  July,  on  12  rods,  or  perches,  of  ground,  sixteen  and 
a  half  feet  to  the  rod,  yielded  62  bushels,  leaves  and  roots  cut  off, 
which  is  after  the  rate  of  992  bushels  to  an  acre.  But  this  sowing 
was  on  ground  extremely  well  prepared  and  sufficiently  manured 
with  ashes  from  burnt  earth  :  a  mode  of  raising  manure  of  which 
I  shall  fully  treat  in  a  future  chapter. 

43.  Though  this  crop  was  so  large,  sown  on  the  9th  of  July,  I 
would  by  no  means  recommend  any  farmer,  who  can  sow  sooner, 
to  defer  the  business  to  that  time  ;  for,  I  am  of  opinion,  with  the 
old  folk  in  the  West  of  England,  that  God  is  almost  always  on  the 
side  of  early  farmers.  Besides,  one  delay  too  often  produces 
another  delay  ;  and  he  who  puts  off  to  the  9th  may  put  off  to  the 
19th. 

44.  The  crops,  in  small  plots,  which  I  sowed  after  the  9th  of 
July  to  the  30th  of  that  month,  grew  very  well  ;  but  they  regularly 
succeeded  each  other  in  diminution  of  size  ;  and,  which  is  a  great 
matter,  the  cold  weather  overtook  them  before  they  were  ripe  : 
and  ripeness  is  full  as  necessary  in  the  case  of  roots  as  in  the  case 
of  apples  or  of  peaches. 


Quality    and    Preparation    of    the    Seed. 

45.  As  a  fine,  rich,  loose  garden  mould,  of  great  depth,  and 
having  a  porous  stratum  under  it,  is  best  for  every  thing  that 
vegetates,  except  plants  that  live  best  in  water,  so  it  is  best  for  the 
Ruta  Baga.  But,  I  know  of  no  soil  in  the  United  States,  in  which 
this  root  may  not  be  cultivated  with  the  greatest  facility.  A  pure 
sand,  or  a  very  stiff  clay,  would  not  do  well,  certainly  ;  but  I  have 

E  45 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


never  seen  any  of  either  in  America.  The  soil  that  I  cultivate  is 
poor  almost  proverbially  ;  but,  what  it  really  is,  is  this  :  it  is  a 
light  loam,  approaching  towards  the  sandy.  It  is  of  a  brownish 
colour  about  eight  inches  deep  ;  then  becomes  more  of  a  red 
for  about  another  eight  inches  ;  and  then  comes  a  mixture  of 
yellowish  sand  and  of  pebbles,  which  continues  down  to  the  depth 
of  many  feet. 

46.  So  much  for  the  nature  of  the  land.  As  to  its  state,  it  was 
that  of  as  complete  poverty  as  can  well  be  imagined .  My  main 
crop  of  Ruta  Baga  was  sown  upon  two  different  pieces.  One, 
of  about  three  acres,  had  borne,  in  1816,  some  Indian  corn  stalks, 
together  with  immense  quantities  of  brambles,  grass,  and  weeds, 
of  all  descriptions.  The  other,  of  about  four  acres,  had,  when  I 
took  to  it,  rye  growing  on  it  ;  but,  this  rye  was  so  poor,  that  my 
neighbour  assured  me,  that  it  could  produce  nothing,  and  he 
advised  me  to  let  the  cattle  and  sheep  take  it  for  their  trouble  of 
walking  over  the  ground,  which  advice  I  readily  followed  ;  but, 
when  he  heard  me  say,  that  I  intended  to  sow  Russia  turnips  on 
the  same  ground,  he  very  kindly  told  me  his  opinion  of  the  matter, 
which  was,  that  I  should  certainly  throw  my  labour  wholly  away. 

47.  With  these  two  pieces  of  ground  I  went  to  work  early  in 
June.  I  ploughed  them  very  shallow,  thinking  to  drag  the  grassy 
clods  up  with  the  harrow,  to  put  them  in  heaps  and  burn  them, 
in  which  case  I  would  (barring  the  fly  /),  have  pledged  my  life 
for  a  crop  of  Ruta  Baga.  It  adversely  happened  to  rain,  when  my 
clods  should  have  been  burnt,  and  the  furrows  were  so  solidly 
fixed  down  by  the  rain,  that  I  could  not  tear  them  up  with  the 
harrow  ;  and,  besides,  my  time  of  sowing  came  on  apace.  Thus 
situated,  and  having  no  faith  in  what  I  was  told  about  the  dangers 
of  deep  ploughing,  I  fixed  four  oxen  to  a  strong  plough,  and  turned 
up  soil  that  had  not  seen  the  sun  for  many,  many  long  years. 
Another  soaking  rain  came  very  soon  after,  and  went,  at  once,  to 
the  bottom  of  my  ploughing,  instead  of  being  carried  away  in- 
stantly by  evaporation.  I  then  harrowed  the  ground  down 
level,  in  order  to  keep  it  moist  as  long  as  I  could  ;  for  the  sun  now 
began  to  be  the  thing  most  dreaded. 

48.  In  the  meanwhile  I  was  preparing  my  manure.  There  was 
nothing  of  the  kind  visible  upon  the  place.  But,  I  had  the  good 
luck  to  follow  a  person,  who  appears  not  to  have  known  much  of 
the  use  of  brooms.  By  means  of  sweeping  and  raking  and  scratch- 
ing in  and  round  the  house,  the  barn,  the  stables,  the  hen-roost, 
and  the  court  and  yard,  I  got  together  about  four  hundred  bushels 
of  not  very  bad  turnip  manure.  This  was  not  quite  60  bushels  to 
an  acre  for  my  seven  acres  ;  or,  three  gallons  to  every  square  rod. 

49.  However,  though  I  made  use  of  these  beggarly  means,  I 
would  not  be  understood  to  recommend  the  use  of  such  means  to 
others.  On  the  contrary,  I  should  have  preferred  good  and  clean 
land,  and  plenty  of  manure  ;  but  of  this  I  shall  speak  again,  when 
I  have  given  an  account  of  the  manner  of  sowing  and  transplanting. 

46 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


Manner  of  Sowing. 

50.  Thus  fitted  out  with  land  and  manure,  I  set  to  the  work  of 
sowing,  which  was  performed,  with  the  help  of  two  ploughs  and 
two  pair  of  oxen,  on  the  25th,  26th,  and  27th  of  June.  The 
ploughmen  put  the  ground  up  into  little  ridges  having  two  furrows 
on  each  side  of  the  ridge  ;  so  that  every  ridge  consisted  of  four 
furrows,  or  turnings  over  of  the  plough  ;  and  the  tops  of  the  ridges 
were  shout  four  feet  from  each  other  ;  and,  as  the  ploughing  was 
performed  to  a  great  depth,  there  was,  of  course,  a  very  deep 
gutter  between  every  two  ridges. 

51.  I  took  care  to  have  the  manure  placed  so  as  to  be  under  the 
middle  of  each  ridge  ;  that  is  to  say,  just  beneath  where  my  seed 
was  to  come.  I  had  but  a  very  small  quantity  of  seed  as  well  as 
of  manure.  This  seed  I  had,  however,  brought  from  home, 
where  it  was  raised  by  a  neighbour,  on  whom  I  could  rely,  and 
I  had  no  faith  in  any  other.  So  that  I  was  compelled  to  bestow 
it  on  the  ridges  with  a  very  parsimonious  hand  ;  not  having,  I 
believe,  more  than  four  pounds  to  sow  on  the  seven  acres.  It 
was  sown  principally  in  this  manner  ;  a  man  went  along  by  the 
side  of  each  ridge,  and  put  down  two  or  three  seeds  in  places  at 
about  ten  inches  from  each  other,  just  drawing  a  little  earth  over, 
and  pressing  it  on  the  seed,  in  order  to  make  it  vegetate  quickly 
before  the  earth  became  too  dry.  This  is  always  a  good  thing  to 
be  done,  and  especially  in  dry  weather,  and  under  a  hot  sun. 
Seeds  are  very  small  things  ;  and  though,  when  we  see  them 
covered  over  with  earth,  we  conclude  that  the  earth  must  touch 
them  closely,  we  should  remember,  that  a  very  small  cavity  is 
sufficient  to  keep  them  untouched  nearly  all  round,  in  which  case, 
under  a  hot  sun,  and  near  the  surface,  they  are  sure  to  perish, 
or,  at  least,  to  lie  long,  and  until  rain  come,  before  they  start. 

52.  I  remember  a  remarkable  instance  of  this  in  saving  some 
turnips  to  transplant  at  Botley.  The  whole  of  a  piece  of  ground 
was  sown  broad-cast.  My  gardener  had  been  told  to  sow  in  beds, 
that  we  might  go  in  to  weed  the  plants  ;  and,  having  forgotten 
this  till  after  sowing,  he  clapped  down  his  line,  and  divided  the 
plot  into  beds  by  treading  very  hard  a  little  path  at  the  distance  of 
every  four  feet.  The  weather  was  very  dry  and  the  wind  very 
keen.  It  continued  so  for  three  weeks  ;  and,  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  we  had  scarcely  a  turnip  in  the  beds,  where  the  ground  had 
been  left  raked  over  ;  but,  in  the  paths  we  had  an  abundance, 
which  grew  to  be  very  fine,  and  which,  when  transplanted,  made 
part  of  a  field  which  bore  thirty-three  tons  to  the  acre,  and  which, 
as  a  whole  field,  was  the  finest  I  ever  saw  in  my  life. 

53.  I  cannot  help  endeavouring  to  press  this  fact  upon  the 
reader.     Squeezing  down  the  earth  makes  it  touch  the  seed  in  ail 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


its  parts,  and  then  it  will  soon  vegetate.  It  is  for  this  reason, 
that  barley  and  oat  fields  should  be  rolled,  if  the  weather  be  dry  ; 
and,  indeed,  that  all  seeds  should  be  pressed  down,  if  the  state 
of  the  earth  will  admit  of  it. 

54.  This  mode  of  sowing  is  neither  tedious  nor  expensive. 
Two  men  sowed  the  whole  of  my  seven  acres  in  the  three  days, 
which,  when  we  consider  the  value  of  the  crop,  and  the  saving  in 
■the  after- culture,  is  really  not  worth  mentioning.  I  do  not  think, 
that  any  sowing  by  drill  is  so  good,  or,  in  the  end,  so  cheap  as  this. 
Drills  miss  very  often  in  the  sowings  of  such  small  seeds.  How- 
ever, the  thing  may  be  done  by  hand  in  a  less  precise  manner. 
One  man  would  have  sown  the  seven  acres  in  a  day,  by  just 
scattering  the  seeds  along  on  the  top  of  the  ridge,  where  they 
might  have  been  buried  with  the  rake,  and  pressed  down  by  a 
spade  or  shovel  or  some  other  flat  instrument.  A  slight  roller 
to  take  two  ridges  at  once,  the  horse  walking  in  the  gutter  between, 
is  what  I  used  to  make  use  of  when  I  sowed  on  ridges  ;  and,  who 
can  want  such  a  roller  in  America,  as  long  as  he  has  an  axe  and  an 
auger  in  his  house  ?  Indeed,  this  whole  matter  is  such  a  trifle, 
when  compared  with  the  importance  of  the  object,  that  it  is  not 
to  be  believed,  that  any  man  will  think  it  worth  the  smallest 
notice  as  counted  amongst  the  means  of  obtaining  that  object. 

55.  Broad  cast  sowing  will,  however,  probably,  be,  in  most 
cases,  preferred  ;  and,  this  mode  of  sowing  is  pretty  well  under- 
stood from  general  experience.  What  is  required  here,  is,  that 
the  ground  be  well  ploughed,  finely  harrowed,  and  the  seeds 
thinly  and  evenly  sown  over  it,  to  the  amount  of  about  two  pounds 
of  seed  to  an  acre  !  but,  then,  if  the  weather  be  dry,  the  seed 
should,  by  all  means  be  rolled  down.  When  I  have  spoken  of  the 
after -culture,  I  shall  compare  the  two  methods  of  sowing,  the 
ridge  and  the  broad-cast,  in  order  that  the  reader  may  be  the  better 
able  to  say,  which  of  the  two  is  entitled  to  the  preference. 


After-culture. 

56.  In  relating  what  I  did  in  this  respect,  I  shall  take  it  for 
.granted,  that  the  reader  will  understand  me  as  describing  what  I 
think  ought  to  be  done. 

57.  When  my  ridges  were  laid  up,  and  my  seed  was  sown,  my 
neighbours  thought,  that  there  was  an  end  of  the  process  ;  for, 
they  all  said,  that,  if  the  seed  ever  came  up,  being  upon  those  high 
ridges,  the  plants  never  cculd  live  under  the  scorching  of  the  sun. 
I  knew  that  this  was  an  erroneous  notion  ;  but  I  had  not  much 
confidence  in  the  powers  of  the  soil,  it  being  so  evidently  poor, 
and  my  supply  of  manure  so  scanty. 

58.  The  plants,  however,  made  their  appearance  with  great 
regularity  ;  no  fly  came  to  annoy  them.     The  moment  they  were 

48 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


fairly  up,  we  went  with  a  very  small  hoe,  and  took  all  but  one  in 
each  ten  or  eleven  or  twelve  inches,  and  thus  left  them  singly 
placed.  This  is  a  great  point  ;  for  they  begin  to  rob  one  another 
at  a  very  early  age,  and,  if  left  two  or  three  weeks  to  rob  each  other,, 
before  they  are  set  out  singly,  the  crop  will  be  diminished  one- 
half.  To  set  the  plants  out  in  this  way  was  a  very  easy  and 
quickly -performed  business  ;  but,  it  is  a  business  to  be  left  to 
no  one  but  a  careful  man.  Boys  can  never  safely  be  trusted  with 
the  deciding,  at  discretion,  whether  you  shall  have  a  large  crop  or 
a  small  one. 

59.  But  now,  something  else  began  to  appear  as  well  as  turnip- 
plants  ;  for,  all  the  long  grass  and  weeds  having  dropped  their 
seeds  the  summer  before,  and,  probably,  for  many  summers, 
they  now  came  forth  to  demand  their  share  of  that  nourishment, 
produced  by  the  fermentation,  the  dews,  and  particularly  the  sun, 
which  shines  on  all  alike.  I  never  saw  a  fiftieth  part  so  many 
weeds  in  my  life  upon  a  like  space  of  ground.  Their  little  seed 
leaves,  of  various  hues,  formed  a  perfect  mat  on  the  ground. 
And  now  it  was,  that  my  wide  ridges,  which  had  appeared  to  my 
neighbours  to  be  so  very  singular  and  so  unnecessary,  were 
absolutely  necessary.  First  we  went  with  a  hoe,  and  hoed  the 
tops  of  the  ridges,  about  six  inches  wide.  There  were  all  the 
plants,  then,  clear  and  clean  at  once,  with  an  expense  of  about 
half  a  day's  work  to  an  acre.  Then  we  came,  in  our  Botley 
fashion,  with  a  single  horse-plough,  took  a  furrow  from  the  side 
of  one  ridge  going  up  the  field,  a  furrow  from  the  other  ridge 
coming  down,  then  another  furrow  from  the  same  side  of  the  first 
ridge  going  up,  and  another  from  the  same  side  of  the  other 
ridge  coming  down.  In  the  taking  away  of  the  last  two  furrov/s, 
we  went  within  three  inches  of  the  turnip-plants.  Thus  there 
was  a  ridge  over  the  original  gutter.  Then  we  turned  these 
furrows  back  again  to  the  turnips.  And,  having  gone,  in  this 
manner,  over  the  whole  piece,  there  it  was  with  not  a  weed  alive 
in  it.  All  killed  by  the  sun,  and  the  field  as  clean  and  as  fine  as 
any  garden  that  ever  was  seen. 

60.  Those  who  know  the  effect  of  tillage  between  growing  plants , 
and  especially  if  the  earth  be  moved  deep  (and,  indeed,  what 
American  does  not  know  what  such  effect  is,  seeing  that,  without 
it,  there  would  be  no  Indian  Corn  ?)  ;  those  that  reflect  on  this 
effect,  may  guess  at  the  effect  on  my  Ruta  Baga  plants,  which  soon 
gave  me,  by  their  appearance,  a  decided  proof,  that  Tull's 
principles  are  always  true,  in  whatever  soil  or  climate  applied. 

61.  It  was  now  a  very  beautiful  thing  to  see  a  regular,  unbroken 
line  of  fine,  fresh-looking  plants  upon  the  tops  of  those  wide 
ridges,  which  had  been  thought  to  be  so  very  whimsical  and  un- 
necessary. But,  why  have  the  ridges  so  very  wide  ?  This 
question  was  not  new  to  me,  who  had  to  answer  it  a  thousand 
times  in  England.  It  is  because  you  cannot  plough  deep  and 
clean  in  a  narrower  space  than  four  feet ;   and,  it  is  the  deep  and 

49 


RU<TA  BAGA  CULTURE 


clean  ploughing  that  I  regard  as  the  surest  means  of  a  large  crop, 
especially  in  poor,  or  indifferent  ground.  It  is  a  great  error  to 
suppose,  that  there  is  any  ground  lost  by  these  wide  intervals. 
My  crop  of  thirty -three  tons,  or  thirteen  hundred  and  twenty  bushels, 
to  the  acre,  taking  a  whole  field  together,  had  the  same  sort  of 
intervals  ;  while  my  neighbour's,  with  two  feet  intervals,  never 
arrived  at  two-thirds  of  the  weight  of  that  crop.  There  is  no 
ground  lost  :  for,  any  one,  who  has  a  mind  to  do  it,  may  satisfy 
himself,  that  the  lateral  roots  of  any  fine  large  turnip  will  extend 
more  than  six  feet  from  the  bulb  of  the  plant.  The  intervals  are 
full  of  these  roots,  the  breaking  of  which  and  the  moving  of  which, 
as  in  the  case  of  Indian  Corn,  gives  new  food  and  new  roots,  and 
produces  wonderful  effects  on  the  plants.  Wide  as  my  intervals 
were,  the  leaves  of  some  of  the  plants  very  nearly  touched  those 
of  the  plants  on  the  adjoining  ridge,  before  the  end  of  their  growth  ; 
and  I  have  had  them  frequently  meet  in  this  way  in  England. 
They  would  always  do  it  here,  if  the  ground  were  rich  and  the 
tillage  proper.  How  then,  can  the  intervals  be  too  wide,  if  the 
plants  occupy  the  interval  !  And  how  can  any  ground  be  lost  if 
every  inch  be  full  of  roots  and  shaded  by  leaves  ? 

62.  After  the  last-mentioned  operation  my  plants  remained  till 
the  weeds  had  again  made  their  appearance  ;  or,  rather,  till  a  new 
brood  had  started  up.  When  this  was  the  case,  we  went  with  the 
hoe  again,  and  cleaned  the  tops  of  the  ridges  as  before.  The 
weeds  under  this  all-powerful  sun,  instantly  perish.  Then  we 
repeated  the  former  operation  with  the  one-horse  plough.  After 
this  nothing  was  done  but  to  pull  up  now  and  then  a  weed,  which 
had  escaped  the  hoe  ;  for,  as  to  the  plough-share,  nothing  escapes 
that. 

63.  Now,  I  think,  no  farmer  can  discover  in  this  process  any 
thing  more  difficult,  more  troublesome,  more  expensive,  than  in 
the  process  absolutely  necessary  to  the  obtaining  of  a  crop  of 
Indian  Corn.  And  yet,  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  in  any  land, 
capable  of  bearing  fifty  bushels  of  corn  upon  an  acre,  more  than  a 
thousand  bushels  of  Ruta  Baga  may,  in  the  above  described 
manner,  be  raised. 

64.  In  the  broad-cast  method  the  after-culture  must,  of  course, 
be  confined  to  hoeing,  or,  as  Tull  calls  it,  scratching.  In  England, 
the  hoer  goes  in  when  the  plants  are  about  four  inches  high,  and 
hoes  all  the  ground,  setting  out  the  plants  to  about  eighteen  inches 
apart  ;  and,  if  the  ground  be  at  all  foul,  he  is  obliged  to  go  in  in 
about  a  month  afterwards,  to  hoe  the  ground  again.  This  is  all 
that  is  done  ;  and  a  very  poor  all  it  is,  as  the  crops,  on  the  very 
best  ground,  compared  with  the  ridged  crops,  invariably  show. 


50 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


Transplanting. 

65.  This  is  a  third  mode  of  cultivating  the  Ruta  Baga  ;  and, 
in  certain  cases,  far  preferable  to  either  of  the  other  two.  My 
large  crops  at  Botley  were  from  roots  transplanted.  I  resorted 
to  this  mode  in  order  to  insure  a  crop  in  spite  of  the  fly  :  but,  I 
am  of  opinion,  that  it  is,  in  all  cases,  the  best  mode,  provided 
hands  can  be  obtained  in  sufficient  number,  just  for  a  few  days, 
or  weeks,  as  the  quantity  may  be,  when  the  land  and  the  plants 
are  ready. 

66.  Much  light  is  thrown  on  matters  of  this  sort  by  describing 
what  one  has  done  one's  self  relating  to  them.  This  is  practice 
at  once  ;  or,  at  least,  it  comes  much  nearer  to  it  than  any  in- 
structions possibly  can. 

67.  It  was  an  accident  that  led  me  to  the  practice.  In  the 
summer  of  18 12,  I  had  a  piece  of  Ruta  Baga  in  the  middle  of  a 
field,  or,  rather,  the  piece  occupied  a  part  of  the  field,  having  a 
crop  of  carrots  on  one  side,  and  a  crop  of  Mangel  Wurzel  on  the 
other  side.  On  the  20th  of  July  the  turnips,  or  rather,  those  of 
them  which  had  escaped  the  fSy,  began  to  grow  pretty  well.  They 
had  been  sown  in  drills  ;  and  I  was- anxious  to  fill  up  the  spaces, 
which  had  been  occasioned  by  the  ravages  of  the  fly.  I,  there- 
fore, took  the  supernumerary  plants,  which  I  found  in  the  un- 
attacked  places,  and  filled  up  the  rows  by  transplantation,  which 
I  did  also  in  two  other  fields. 

68.  The  turnips,  thus  transplanted,  grew,  and,  in  fact,  were 
pretty  good  ;  but,  they  were  very  far  inferior  to  those  which  had 
retained  their  original  places.  But,  it  happened,  that  on  one  side 
of  the  above-mentioned  piece  of  turnips,  there  was  a  vacant  space 
of  about  a  yard  in  breadth.  When  the  ploughman  had  finished 
ploughing  between  the  rows  of  turnips,  I  made  him  plough  up 
that  spare  ground  very  deep,  and  upon  it  I  made  my  gardener  go 
and  plant  two  rows  of  turnips.  These  became  the  largest  and 
finest  of  the  whole  piece,  though  transplanted  two  days  later  than 
those  which  had  been  transplanted  in  the  rows  throughout  the 
piece.  The  cause  of  this  remarkable  difference,  I  at  once  saw, 
was,  that  these  had  been  put  into  newly -ploughed  ground  ;  for, 
though  I  had  not  read  much  of  Tull  at  the  time  here  referred 
to,  I  knew,  from  the  experience  of  my  whole  life,  that  plants  as 
well  as  seeds  ought  always  to  go  into  ground  as  recently  moved  as 
possible  ;  because  at  every  moving  of  the  earth,  and  particularly 
at  every  turning  of  it,  a  new  process  of  fermentation  takes  place, 
fresh  exhalations  arise,  and  a  supply  of  the  food  of  plants  is  thus 
prepared  for  the  newly  arrived  guests.  Mr.  Curwen,  the  Member 
of  Parliament,  though  a  poor  thing  as  to  public  matters,  has 

5i 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


published  not  a  bad  book  on  agriculture.  It  is  not  bad,  because 
it  contains  many  authentic  accounts  of  experiments  made  by  him- 
self ;  though  I  never  can  think  of  his  book  without  thinking,  at 
the  same  time,  of  the  gross  and  scandalous  plagiarisms,  which 
he  has  committed  upon  Tull.  Without  mentioning  particulars, 
the  "  Honourable  Member  "  will,  I  am  sure,  know  what  I  mean, 
if  this  page  should  ever  have  the  honour  to  fall  under  his  eye  ; 
and  he  will,  I  hope,  repent,  and  give  proof  of  his  repentance,  by  a 
restoration  of  the  property  to  the  right  owner. 

69.  However,  Mr.  Curwen,  in  his  book,  gives  an  account  of  the 
wonderful  effects  of  moving  the  ground  between  plants  in  rows  ; 
and  he  tells  us  of  an  experiment,  which  he  made,  and  which 
proved,  that  from  ground  just  ploughed,  in  a  very  dry  time,  an 
exhalation  of  many  tons  weight,  per  acre,  took  place,  during  the 
first  twenty-four  hours  after  ploughing,  and  of  a  less  and  less 
number  of  tons,  during  the  three  or  four  succeeding  twenty- 
four  hours  ;  that,  in  the  course  of  about  a  week,  the  exhalation 
ceased  :  and  that,  during  the  whole  period,  the  ground,  though 
in  the  same  field,  which  hadnot  been  ploughed  when  the  other  ground 
was,  exhaled  not  an  ounce  !  When  I  read  this  in  Mr.  Curwen's 
book,  which  was  before  I  had  read  Tull,  I  called  to  mind,  that, 
having  once  dug  the  ground  between  some  rows  of  part  of  a  plot 
of  cabbages  in  my  garden,  in  order  to  plant  some  late  peas,  I 
perceived  (it  was  in  a  dry  time)  the  cabbages,  the  next  morning, 
in  the  part  recently  du.g,  with  big  drops  of  dew  hanging  on  the  edges 
of  the  leaves,  and  in  the  other,  or  undug  part  of  the  plot,  no  drops 
at  all.  I  had  forgotten  the  fact  till  I  read  Mr.  Curwen,  arid  I 
never  knew  the  cause  till  I  read  the  real  Father  of  English 
Husbandry . 

70.  From  this  digression  I  return  to  the  history,  first  of  my 
English  transplanting.  I  saw,  at  once,  that  the  only  way  to  ensure 
a  crop  of  turnips  was  by  transplantation.  The  next  year,  there- 
fore, I  prepared  a  field  of  five  acres,  and  another  of  twelve.  I  made 
ridges,  in  the  manner  described,  for  sowing  ;  and,  on  the  7th  of 
June  in  the  first  field,  and  on  the  20th  of  July  in  the  second  field, 
I  planted  my  plants.  I  ascertained  to  an  exactness,  that  there 
were  thirty -three  tons  to  an  acre,  throughout  the  whole  seventeen 
acres.  After  this,  I  never  used  any  other  method.  I  never  saw 
above  half  as  great  a  crop  in  any  other  person's  land  ;  and,  though 
we  read  of  much  greater  in  agricultural  prize  reports,  they  must 
have  been  of  the  extent  of  a  single  acre,  or  something  in  that  way. 
In  my  usual  order,  the  ridges  four  feet  asunder,  and  the  plants  a 

foot  asunder  on  the  ridge,  there  were  ten  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  thirty  turnips  on  the  acre  of  ground  ;  and,  therefore,  for  an 
acre  to  weigh  thirty-three  tons,  each  turnip  must  weigh  very  nearly 
seven  pounds.  After  the  time  here  spoken  of,  I  had  an  acre  or 
two  at  the  end  of  a  large  field,  transplanted  on  the  13th  of  July, 
which  probably,  weighed  fifty  tons  an  acre.  I  delayed  to  have 
them  weighed  till  a  fire  happened  in  some  of  my  farm  buildings, 

52 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


which  produced  a  further  delay,  and  so  the  thing  was  not  done  at 
all  ;  but,  I  weighed  one  waggon  load,  the  turnips  of  which  averaged 
eleven  pounds  each  :  and  several  weighed  fourteen  pounds  each. 
My  very  largest  upon  Long  Island  weighed  twelve  pounds  and  a 
half.  In  all  these  cases,  as  well  here  as  in  England,  the  produce 
was  from  transplanted  plants  ;  though  at  Hyde  Park,  I  have  many 
turnips  of  more  than  ten  pounds  weight  each  from  sown  plants, 
some  of  which,  on  account  of  the  great  perfection  in  their  qualities, 
I  have  selected,  and  am  now  planting  out,  for  seed. 

71.  I  will  now  give  a  full  account  of  my  transplanting  at  Hyde 
Park.  In  a  part  of  the  ground  which  was  put  into  ridges  and  sown. 
I  scattered  the  seed  along  very  thinly  upon  the  top  of  the  ridge, 
But,  however  thinly  you  may  attempt  to  scatter  such  small  seeds, 
there  will  always  be  too  many  plants,  if  the  tillage  be  good  and  the 
seed  good  also.  I  suffered  these  plants  to  stand  as  they  came  up  ; 
and,  they  stood  much  too  long,  on  account  of  my  want  of  hands, 
or,  rather,  my  want  of  time  to  attend  to  give  my  directions  in  the 
transplanting  ;  and,  indeed,  my  example  too  ;  for,  I  met  not  with  a 
man  who  knew  how  Xo  fix  a  plant  in  the  ground  ;  and,  strange  as 
it  may  appear,  more  than  half  the  bulk  of  crop  depends  on  a  little, 
trifling,  contemptible  twist  of  the  setting-stick,  or  dibble  :  a  thing 
very  well  known  to  all  gardeners  in  the  case  of  cabbages,  and  about 
which,  therefore,  I  will  give,  by  and  by,  very  plain  instructions. 

72.  Thus  puzzled,  and  not  being  able  to  spare  time  to  do  the 
job  myself,  I  was  one  day  looking  at  my  poor  plants,  which  were 
daily  suffering  for  want  of  removal,  and  was  thinking  how  glad 
I  should  be  of  one  of  the  Churchers  at  Botley,  who,  I  thought  to 
myself,  would  soon  clap  me  out  my  turnip  patch.  At  this  very 
time,  and  into  the  field  itself,  came  a  cousin  of  one  of  these 
Churchers,  who  had  lately  arrived  from  England  !  It  was 
very  strange,  but  literally  the  fact. 

73.  To  work  Churcher  and  I  went,  and,  with  the  aid  of  persons 
to  pull  up  the  plants  and  bring  them  to  us,  we  planted  out  about 
two  acres,  in  the  mornings  and  evenings  of  six  days  ;  for  the  weather 
was  too  hot  for  us  to  keep  out  after  breakfast,  until  about  two  hours 
before  sun-set.  There  was  a  friend  staying  with  me,  who  helped 
us  to  plant,  and  who  did,  indeed,  as  much  of  the  work  as  either 
Churcher  or  I. 

74.  The  time  when  this  was  done  was  from  the  21st  to  the  28th 
of  August,  one  Sunday  and  one  day  of  no  planting,  having  inter- 
vened. Every  body  knows,  that  this  is  the  very  hottest  season  of 
the  year  ;  and,  as  it  happened,  this  was,  last  summer,  the  very 
driest  also.  The  weather  had  been  hot  and  dry  from  the  10th 
of  August  :  and  so  it  continued  to  the  12th  of  September.  Any 
gentleman  who  has  kept  a  journal  of  last  year,  upon  Long  Island, 
will  know  this  to  be  correct.  Who  would  have  thought  to  see 
these  plants  thrive  ;  who  would  have  thought  to  see  them  live  ? 
The  next  day  after  being  planted,  their  leaves  crumbled  between 
our  fingers,  like  the  old  leaves  of  trees.     In  two  days  there  was 

S3 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


no  more  appearance  of  a  crop  upon  the  ground  than  there  was  of  a 
crop  on  the  Turnpike- road.  But,  on  the  2nd  of  September,  as 
1  have  it  in  my  memorandum  book,  the  plants  began  to  show  life  : 
and,  before  the  rain  came,  on  the  12th,  the  piece  began  to  have  an 
air  of  verdure,  and  indeed,  to  grow  and  to  promise  a  good  crop. 

75.  I  will  speak  of  the  bulk  of  this  crop  by  and  by  ;  but,  I  must 
here  mention  another  transplantation  that  I  made  in  the  latter 
end  of  July,  A  plot  of  ground,  occupied  by  one  of  my  earliest 
sowings,  had  the  turnips  standing  in  it  in  rows  at  eighteen  inches 
asunder,  and  at  a  foot  asunder  in  the  rows.  Towards  the  middle 
of  July  I  found,  that  one  half  of  the  rows  must  be  taken  away, 
or  that  the  whole  would  be  of  little  value.  Having  pulled  up  the 
plants,  I  intended  to  translate  them  (as  they  say  of  Bishops)  from 
the  garden  to  the  field  ;  but,  I  had  no  ground  ready.  However, 
I  did  not  like  to  throw  away  these  plants,  which  had  already  bulbs 
as  large  as  hens'  eggs.  They  were  carried  into  the  cellar,  where 
they  lay  in  a  heap,  till  (which  would  soon  happen  in  such  hot 
weather)  they  began  to  ferment.  This  made  the  most  of  their 
leaves  turn  white.  Unwilling,  still,  to  throw  them  away,  I  next 
laid  them  on  the  grass  in  the  front  of  the  house,  where  they  got  the 
dews  in  the  night,  and  they  were  covered  with  a  mat  during  the 
day,  except  two  days,  when  they  were  overlooked,  or,  rather, 
neglected.  The  heat  was  very  great,  and,  at  last,  supposing  these 
plants  dead,  I  did  not  cover  them  any  more.  There  they  lay 
abandoned  till  the  24th  of  July,  on  which  day  I  began  planting 
Cabbages  in  my  field.  I  then  thought,  that  I  would  try  the  hardi- 
ness of  a  Ruta  Baga  plant.  I  took  these  same  abandoned  plants, 
without  a  morsel  of  green  left  about  them  ;  planted  them  in  part 
of  a  row  of  the  piece  of  cabbages  ;  and  they,  a  hundred  and  six 
in  number,  weighed,  when  they  were  taken  up,  in  December, 
nine  hundred  and  one  pounds.  One  of  these  turnips  weighed 
twelve  pounds  and  a  half. 

76.  But,  it  ought  to  be  observed,  that  this  was  in  ground  which 
had  been  got  up  in  my  best  manner  ;  that  it  had  some  of  the  best 
of  my  manure  ;  and,  that  uncommon  pains  were  taken  by  myself 
in  the  putting  in  of  the  plants.  This  experiment  shows,  what  a 
hardy  plant  this  is  ;  but,  I  must  caution  the  reader  against  a 
belief,  that  it  is  either  desirable  or  prudent  to  put  this  quality 
to  so  severe  a  test.  There  is  no  necessity  for  it,  in  general  ;  and, 
indeed,  the  rule  is,  that  the  shorter  time  the  plants  are  out  of  the 
ground  the  better. 

77.  But,  as  to  the  business  of  transplanting,  there  is  one  very, 
material  observation  to  make.  The  ground  ought  to  be  as  fresh  : 
that  is  to  say,  as  recently  moved  by  the  plough,  as  possible  ;  and 
that  for  the  reasons  before  stated.  The  way  I  go  on  is  this  :  my 
land  is  put  up  into  ridges,  as  described  under  the  head  of  manner 
of  sowing.  This  is  done  before-hand,  several  days  ;  or,  it  may  be, 
a  week  01  more.  When  we  have  our  plants  and  hands  all  ready, 
the  ploughman  begins,  and  turns  in  the  ridges  ;    that  is  to  say, 

54 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


ploughs  the  ground  back  again,  so  that  the  top  of  the  new  ploughed 
ridge  stands  over  the  place  where  the  channel,  or  gutter,  or  deep 
furrow,  was,  before  he  began.  As  soon  as  he  has  finished  the 
first  ridge,  the  planters  plant  it,  while  he  is  ploughing  the  second  : 
and  so  on  throughout  the  field.  That  this  is  not  a  very  tedious 
process  the  reader  needs  only  to  be  told,  that,  in  1816,  I  had 
fifty-two  acres  of  Ruta  Baga  planted  in  this  way  ;  and  I  think  I 
had  more  than  fifty  thousand  bushels.  A  smart  hand  will  plant 
half  an  acre  a  day,  with  a  girl  or  a  boy  to  drop  the  plants  for  him. 
I  had  a  man,  who  planted  an  acre  a  day  many  a  time.  But, 
supposing  that  a  quarter  of  an  acre  is  a  day's  work,  what  are  four 
days'  zvork,  when  put  in  competition  with  the  value  of  an  acre  of 
this  invaluable  root  ?  And  what  farmer  is  there,  who  has  common 
industry,  who  would  grudge  to  bend  his  ovm  back  eight  or  twelve 
days,  for  the  sake  of  keeping  all  his  stock  through  the  Spring 
months,  when  dry  food  is  loathsome  to  them,  and  when  grass  is 
by  nature  denied  ? 

78.  Observing  well  what  has  been  said  about  earth  perfectly 
fresh,  and  never  forgetting  this,  let  us  now  talk  about  the  act  of 
planting  ;  the  mere  mechanical  operation  of  putting  the  plant  into 
the  ground.  We  have  a  setting-stick  which  should  be  the  top  of  a 
spade-handle  cut  off,  about  ten  inches  below  the  eye.  It  must 
be  pointed  smoothly  ;  and,  if  it  be  shod  with  thin  iron,  that  is  to 
say,  covered  with  an  iron  sheath,  it  will  work  more  smoothly,  and 
do  its  business  the  better.  At  any  rate  the  point  should  be  nicely 
smoothed,  and  so  should  the  whole  of  the  tool.  The  planting 
is  performed  like  that  of  cabbage-plants  ;  but,  as  I  have  met  with 
very  few  persons,  out  of  the  market  gardens,  and  gentlemen's 
gardens  in  England,  who  knew  how  to  plant  a  cabbage-plant,  so 
I  am  led  to  suppose,  that  very  few,  comparatively  speaking,  know 
how  to  plant  a  turnip-plant. 

79.  You  constantly  hear  people  say,  that  they  zvaitfor  a  shower, 
in  order  to  put  out  their  cabbage-plants.  Never  was  there  an 
error  more  general  or  more  complete  in  all  its  parts.  Instead  of 
rainy  weather  being  the  best  time,  it  is  the  very  worst  time,  for 
this  business  of  transplantation,  whether  of  cabbages  or  of  any 
thing  else,  from  a  lettuce-plant  to  an  apple-tree.  I  have  proved 
the  fact,  in  scores  upon  scores  of  instances.  The  first  time  that 
I  had  any  experience  of  the  matter  was  in  the  planting  out  of  a 
plot  of  cabbages  in  my  garden  at  Wilmington  in  Delaware.  I 
planted  in  dry  weather,  and,  as  I  had  always  done,  in  such  cases,  I 
watered  the  plants  heavily  ;  but,  being  called  away  for  some  pur- 
pose, I  left  one  row  unwatered,  and  it  happened,  that  it  so  con- 
tinued without  my  observing  it  till  the  next  day.  The  sun  had  so 
completely  scorched  it  by  the  next  night,  that  when  I  repeated  my 
watering  of  the  rest,  I  left  it,  as  being  unworthy  of  nry  care,  in- 
tending to  plant  some  other  thing  in  the  ground  occupied  by  this 
dead  row.  But,  in  a  few  days,  I  saw,  that  it  was  not  dead.  It 
grew  soon  afterwards  ;  and,  in  the  end,  the  cabbages  of  my  dead 

55 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


row  were  not  only  larger,  but  earlier  in  loaving,  than  any  of  the 
rest  of  the  plot. 

80.  The  reason  is  this  :  if  plants  are  put  into  wet  earth,  the 
setting-stick  squeezes  the  earth  up  against  the  tender  fibres  in  a 
mortar -like  state.  The  sun  comes  and  bakes  this  mortar  into  a 
sort  of  glazed  clod.  The  hole  made  by  the  stick  is  also  a  smooth 
sided  hole,  which  retains  its  form,  and  presents,  on  every  side,  an 
impenetrable  substance  to  the  fibres.  In  short,  such  as  the  hole 
is  made,  such  it,  in  a  great  measure,  remains,  and  the  roots  are 
cooped  up  in  this  sort  of  well,  instead  of  having  a  free  course  left 
them  to  seek  their  food  on  every  side.  Besides  this,  the  fibres  get, 
from  being  wet  when  planted,  into  a  small  compass.  They  all 
cling  about  the  tap  root,  and  are  stuck  on  to  it  by  the  wet  dirt  ; 
in  which  state,  if  a  hot  sun  follow,  they  are  all  baked  together  in  a 
lump,  and  cannot  stir.  On  the  contrary,  when  put  into  ground 
unwet,  the  reverse  of  all  this  takes  place  ;  and  the  fresh  earth  will, 
under  any  sun,  supply  moisture  in  quantity  sufficient. 

81.  Yet,  in  July  and  August,  both  in  England  and  America, 
how  many  thousands  and  thousands  are  waiting  for  a  shower  to 
put  out  their  plants  !  And  then,  when  the  long-wished-for 
shower  comes,  they  must  plant  upon  stale  ground,  for  they  have 
it  dug  ready,  as  it  were,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  them  company 
in  waiting  for  the  shower.  Thus  all  the  fermentations  which 
took  place  upon  the  digging,  is  gone  ;  and,  when  the  planting  has 
once  taken  place,  farewell  to  the  spade  !  For,  it  appears  to  be  a 
privilege  of  the  Indian  corn  to  receive  something  like  good  usage 
after  being  planted.  It  is  very  strange  that  it  should  have  been 
thus,  for  what  reason  is  there  for  other  plants  not  enjoying  a 
similar  benefit  ?  The  reason  is,  that  they  will  produce  something 
without  it  ;  and  the  Indian  corn  will  positively  produce  nothing  ; 
for  which  the  Indian  corn  is  very  much  to  be  commended.  As 
an  instance  of  this  effect  of  deeply  moving  the  earth  between 
growing  crops,  I  will  mention,  that,  in  the  month  of  June,  and 
on  the  26th  of  that  month,  a  very  kind  neighbour  of  mine,  in 
whose  garden  I  was,  showed  me  a  plot  of  Green  Savoy  Cabbages, 
which  he  had  planted  in  some  ground  as  rich  as  ground  could  be. 
He  had  planted  them  about  three  weeks  before  ;  and  they  ap- 
peared very  fine  indeed.  In  the  seed  bed,  from  which  he  had  taken 
his  plants,  there  remained  about  a  hundred  :  but,  as  they  had  been 
left  as  of  no  use,  they  had  drawn  each  other  up,  in  company  with 
the  weeds,  till  they  were  about  eighteen  inches  high,  having  only 
a  starved  leaf  or  two  upon  the  top  of  each.  I  asked  my  neighbour 
to  give  me  these  plants,  which  he  readily  did  ;  but  begged  me 
not  to  plant  them,  for,  he  assured  me,  that  they  would  come  to 
nothing.  Indeed,  they  were  a  ragged  lot  ;  but,  I  had  no  plants 
of  my  own  sowing  more  than  two  inches  high.  I,  therefore,  took 
these  plants  and  dug  some  ground  for  them  between  some  rows 
of  scarlet  blossomed  beans,  which  mount  upon  poles.  I  cut  a 
stick  on  purpose,  and  put  the  plants  very  deep  into  the  ground. 

56 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


My  beans  came  off  in  August,  and  then  the  ground  was  well  dug 
between  the  rows  of  cabbages.  In  September,  mine  had  far 
surpassed  the  prime  plants  of  my  neighbour.  And,  in  the  end 
I  believe,  that  ten  of  my  cabbages  would  have  weighed  a  hundred 
of  his,  leaving  out  the  stems  in  both  cases.  But,  his  had  remained 
uncultivated  after  planting.  The  ground,  battered  down  by 
successive  rains,  had  become  hard  as  a  brick.  All  the  stores  of 
food  had  been  locked  up,  and  lay  in  a  dormant  state.  There  had 
been  no  renewed  fermentations,  and  no  exhalations. 

82.  Having  now  said  what,  I  would  fain  hope,  will  convince 
every  reader  of  the  folly  of  waiting  for  a  shower  in  order  to  trans- 
plant plants  of  any  sort,  I  will  now  speak  of  the  mere  act  of  plant- 
ing, more  particularly  than  I  have  hitherto  spoken. 

83.  The  hole  is  made  sufficiently  deep  ;  deeper  than  the  length 
of  the  root  does  really  require  ;  but,  the  root  should  not  be  bent 
at  the  point,  if  it  can  be  avoided.  Then,  while  one  hand  holds 
the  plant,  with  its  root  in  the  hole,  the  other  hand  applies  the 
setting-stick  to  the  earth  on  one  side  of  the  hole,  the  stick  being 
held  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  sharp  triangle  with  the  plant. 
Then  pushing  the  stick  down,  so  that  its  point  goes  a  little  deeper 
than  the  point  of  the  root,  and  giving  it  a  little  twist,  it  presses  the 
earth  against  the  point,  or  bottom  of  the  root.  And  thus  all  is  safe, 
and  the  plant  is  sure  to  grow. 

84.  The  general,  and  almost  universal  fault,  is,  that  the  planter, 
when  he  has  put  the  root  into  the  hole,  draws  the  earth  up  against 
the  upper  part  of  the  root,  or  stem,  and,  if  he  presses  pretty  well 
there,  he  thinks  that  the  planting  is  well  done.  But,  it  is  the  point 
of  the  root,  against  which  the  earth  ought  to  be  pressed,  for  there 
the  fibres  are  ;  and,  if  they  do  not  touch  the  earth  closely,  the  plant 
will  not  thrive.  The  reasons  have  been  given  in  paragraphs  51 
and  52,  in  speaking  of  the  sowing  of  seeds.  It  is  the  same  in  all 
cases  of  transplanting  or  planting.  Trees,  for  instance,  will  be 
sure  to  grow,  if  you  sift  the  earth,  or  pulverize  it  very  finely,  and 
place  it  carefully  and  closely  about  the  roots.  When  we  plant  a 
tree,  we  see  all  covered  by  tumbling  in  the  earth  ;  and ,  it  appears 
whimsical  to  suppose,  that  the  earth  does  not  touch  all  the  roots. 
But,  the  fact  is,  that  unless  great  pains  be  taken,  there  will  be 
many  cavities  in  the  hole  where  the  tree  is  planted  ;  and,  in  what- 
ever places  the  earth  does  not  closely  touch  the  root,  the  root  v/ill 
mould,  become  cankered,  and  will  lead  to  the  producing  of  a 
poor  tree. 

85.  When  I  began  transplanting  in  fields  in  England,  I  had 
infinite  difficulty  in  making  my  planters  attend  to  the  directions, 
which  I  have  here  given.  "  The  point  of  the  stick  to  the  point  of 
the  root  !  "  was  my  constant  cry.  As  I  could  not  be  much  with 
my  work-people,  I  used,  in  order  to  try  whether  they  had  planted 
properly,  to  go  after  them,  and  now-and-then  take  the  tip  of  a  leaf 
between  my  finger  and  thumb.  If  the  plant  resisted  the  pull,  so 
as  for  the  bit  of  leaf  to  come  away,  I  was  sure  that  the  plant  was 

57 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


well  fixed  ;  but,  if  the  pull  brought  up  the  plant  out  of  the  ground '; 
then  I  was  sure,  that  the  planting  was  not  well  done.  After  the 
first  field  or  two,  I  had  no  trouble.  My  work  was  as  well  done, 
as  if  the  whole  had  been  done  by  myself.  My  planting  was  done 
chiefly  by  young  women,  each  of  whom  would  plant  half  an  acre 
a  day,  and  their  pay  was  ten  pence  sterling  a  day.  What  a  shame, 
then,  for  any  man  to  shrink  at  the  trouble  and  labour  of  such  a 
matter.  Nor,  let  it  be  imagined,  that  these  young  women  were 
poor,  miserable,  ragged,  squalid  creatures.  They  were  just  the 
contrary.  On  a  Sunday  they  appeared  in  their  white  dresses,  and 
with  silk  umbrellas  over  their  heads.  Their  constant  labour 
afforded  the  means  of  dressing  well,  their  early  rising  and  exercise 
gave  them  health,  their  habitual  cleanliness  and  neatness,  for  which 
the  women  of  the  South  of  England  are  so  justly  famed,  served 
to  aid  in  the  completing  of  their  appearance,  which  was  that  of 
fine  rosy-cheeked  country-girls,  fit  to  be  the  helpmates,  and  not 
the  burdens,  of  their  future  husbands. 

86.  But,  at  any  rate,  what  can  be  said  for  a  man  that  thinks  too 
much  of  such  a  piece  of  labour  ?  The  earth  is  always  grateful  ; 
but  it  must  and  will  have  something  to  be  grateful  for.  As  far 
as  my  little  experience  has  enabled  rne  to  speak,  I  find  no  want 
of  willingness  to  learn  in  any  of  the  American  workmen.  Ours, 
in  England,  are  apt  to  be  very  obstinate,  especially  if  getting  a  little 
old.  They  do  not  like  to  be  taught  any  thing.  They  say,  and 
they  think,  that  what  their  fathers  did  was  best.  To  tell  them, 
that  it  was  your  affair,  and  not  theirs,  is  nothing.  To  tell  them, 
that  the  Joss,  if  any,  will  fall  upon  you,  and  not  upon  them,  has 
very  little  weight.  They  argue,  that,  they  being  the  real  doers, 
ought  to  be  the  best  judges  of  the  mode  of  doing.  And,  indeed, 
in  most  cases,  they  are,  and  go  about  this  work  with  wonderful 
skill  and  judgment.  But,  then,  it  is  so  difficult  to  induce  them 
cordially  to  do  any  thing  new,  or  any  old  thing  in  a  new  way  :  and 
the  abler  they  are  as  workmen,  the  more  untractable  they  are, 
and  the  more  difficult  to  be  persuaded  that  any  one  knows  any 
thing,  relating  to  farming  affairs,  better  than  they  do.  It  was  this 
difficulty  that  made  me  resort  to  the  employment  of  young  women 
in  the  most  important  part  of  my  farming,  the  providing  of  im- 
mense quantities  of  cattle-food.  But,  I  do  not  find  this  difficulty 
here,  where  no  workmen  are  obstinate,  and  where,  too,  all  one's 
neighbours  rejoice  at  one's  success,  which  is  by  no  means  the  case 
amongst  the  farmers  in  England. 

87.  Having  now  given  instructions  relative  to  the  business  of 
transplanting  of  the  Ruta  Baga,  let  us  see,  whether  it  be  not  pre- 
ferable to  either  the  ridge  -  sowing  method,  or  the  broadcast 
method. 

88.  In  the  first  place,  when  the  seed  is  sown  on  the  ground 
where  the  plants  are  to  come  to  perfection,  the  ground,  as  we  have 
seen  in  paragraph  40  and  paragraph  47,  must  be  prepared  early 
in  June,  at  the  latest ;  but,  in  the  transplanting  method,  this  work 

58 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


may  be  put  off,  if  need  be,  till  early  in  August,  as  we  have  seen  in 
paragraphs  74  and  75.  However,  the  best  time  for  transplanting 
is  about  the  26th  of  July,  and  this  gives  a  month  for  preparation 
of  land,  more  than  is  allowed  in  the  sowing  methods.  This,  of 
itself,  is  a  great  matter  ;  but,  there  are  others  of  far  greater 
importance. 

89.  This  transplanted  crop  may  follow  another  crop  on  the  same 
land.  Early  cabbages  will  loave  and  be  away  ;  early  peas  will  be 
ripe  and  off  ;  nay,  even  wheat,  and  all  grain,  except  buck-wheat, 
may  be  succeeded  by  Ruta  Baga  transplanted,  t  had  crops  to 
succeed  Potatoes,  Kidney  Beans,  White  Peas,  Onions,  and  even 
Indian  Corn,  gathered  to  eat  green  ;  and,  the  reader  will  please 
to  bear  in  mind,  that  I  did  not  sow,  or  plant,  any  of  my  first  crops, 
just  mentioned,  till  the  month  of  June.  What  might  a  man  do, 
then,  who  is  in  a  state  to  begin  with  his  first  crops  as  soon  as  he 
pleases  ?  Who  has  his  land  all  in  order,  and  his  manure  ready  to 
be  applied. 

90.  Another  great  advantage  of  the  transplanting  method  is, 
that  it  saves  almost  the  whole  of  the  after -culture.  There  is  no 
hoeing  :  no  thinning  of  the  plants  ;  and  not  more  than  one  plough- 
ing between  the  ridges.  This  is  a  great  consideration,  and  should 
always  be  thought  of,  when  we  are  talking  of  the  trouble  of  trans- 
planting. The  turnips  which  I  have  mentioned  in  paragraphs 
72  and  73  had  no  after-culture  of  any  sort  ;  for  they  soon  spread 
the  ground  over  with  their  leaves  ;  and,  indeed,  after  July,  very 
few  weeds  made  their  appearance.  The  season  for  their  coming 
up  is  passed  ;  and,  as  every  farmer  well  knows,  if  there  be  no 
weeds  up  at  the  end  of  July,  very  few  will  come  that  summer. 

91.  Another  advantage  of  the  transplanting  method  is,  that  you 
are  sure  that  you  have  your  right  number  of  plants,  and  those 
regularly  placed.  For,  in  spite  of  all  you  can  do  in  sowing,  there 
will  be  deficiencies  and  irregularities.  The  seed  may  not  come 
up,  in  some  places.  The  plants  may,  in  some  places,  be  destroyed 
in  their  infant  state.  They  may  now  and  then,  be  cut  off  with 
the  hoe.  The  best  plants  may  sometimes  be  cut  up,  and  the 
inferior  plants  left  to  grow.  And,  in  the  broadcast  method,  the 
irregularity  and  uncertainty  must  be  obvious  to  every  one.  None 
of  these  injurious  consequences  can  arise  in  the  transplanting 
method.  Here,  when  the  work  is  once  well  done,  the  crop  is 
certain,  and  all  cares  are  at  an  end. 

92.  In  taking  my  leave  of  this  part  of  my  treatise,  I  must  observe, 
that  it  is  useless,  and,  indeed,  unjust,  for  any  man  to  expect 
success,  unless  he  attend  to  the  thing  himself,  at  least,  till  he  has 
made  the  matter  perfectly  familiar  to  his  work-people.  To 
neglect  any  part  of  the  business  is,  in  fact,  to  neglect  the  whole  ; 
just  as  much  as  neglecting  to  put  up  one  of  the  sides  of  a  building, 
is  to  neglect  the  whole  building.  Were  it  a  matter  of  trifling 
moment,  personal  attention  might  be  dispensed  with  ;  but,  as 
I  shall,  I  think,  clearly  show,  this  is  a  matter  of  very  great  moment 

59 


RUT A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


to  every  farmer.  The  object  is,  not  merely  to  get  roots,  but  to 
get  them  of  a  large  size  :  for,  as  I  shall  show,  there  is  an  amazing 
difference  in  this.  And,  large  roots  are  not  to  be  gotten  without 
care,  which,  by  the  by,  costs  nothing.  Besides,  the  care  bestowed 
in  obtaining  this  crop,  removes  all  the  million  of  cares  and  vexa- 
tions of  the  Spring  months,  when  bleatings  everlasting  din  the 
farmer  almost  out  of  his  senses,  and  make  him  ready  to  knock  the 
brains  out  of  the  clamourous  flock,  when  he  ought  to  feel  pleasure 
in  the  filling  of  their  bellies. 

93.  Having  now  done  with  the  different  modes  of  cropping 
the  ground  with  Ruta  Baga,  I  will,  as  I  proposed  in  paragraph  49, 
speak  about  the  preparation  of  the  land  generally  :  and  in  doing 
this,  I  shall  suppose  the  land  to  have  borne  a  good  crop  of  wheat 
the  preceding  year,  and,  of  course,  to  be  in  good  heart,  as  we  call 
it  in  England. 

94.  I  would  plough  this  ground  in  the  fall  into  ridges  four  feet 
asunder.  The  ploughing  should  be  very  deep,  and  the  ridges  well 
laid  up.  In  this  situation  it  would,  by  the  successive  frosts  and 
thaws,  be  shaken  and  broken  fine  as  powder  by  March  or  April. 
In  April,  it  should  be  turned  back  ;  always  ploughing  deep.  A 
crop  of  weeds  would  be  well  set  upon  it  by  the  first  of  June,  when 
they  should  be  smothered  by  another  turning  back.  Then,  about 
the  third  week  in  June,  I  would  carry  in  my  manure,  and  fling  it 
along  on  the  trenches  or  furrows.  After  this  I  would  follow  the 
turning  back  for  the  sowing,  as  is  directed  in  paragraph  50.  Now, 
here  are  four  ploughings .  And  what  is  the  cost  of  these  ploughings  ? 
My  man,  a  black  man,  a  native  of  this  Island,  ploughs,  with  his 
pair  of  oxen  and  no  driver,  an  acre  and  a  half  a  day,  and  his  oxen 
keep  their  flesh  extremely  well  upon  the  refuse  of  the  Ruta  Baga 
which  I  send  to  market.  What  is  the  cost  then  ?  And,  what  a 
fine  state  the  grass  is  thus  brought  into  !  A  very  different  thing 
indeed  is  it  to  plough  hard  ground,  from  what  it  is  to  plough 
ground  in  this  fine,  broken  state.  Besides,  every  previous 
ploughing,  especially  deep  ploughing,  is  equal  to  a  seventh  part 
of  an  ordinary  coat  of  manure. 

95.  In  the  broad-cast  method  I  would  give  the  same  number  of 
previous  ploughings,  and  at  the  same  seasons  of  the  year.  I 
would  spread  the  manure  over  the  ground  just  before  I  ploughed 
it  for  sowing.  Then,  when  I  ploughed  for  the  sowing,  I  would 
if  I  had  only  one  pair  of  oxen,  plough  about  half  an  acre,  harrow 
the  ground,  sow  it  immediately,  and  roll  it  with  a  light  roller, 
which  a  little  horse  might  draw,  in  order  to  press  the  earth  about 
the  seeds,  and  cover  them  too.  There  need  be  no  harrowing  after 
sowing.  We  never  do  it  in  England.  The  roller  does  all  very 
completely,  and  the  sowing  upon  the  fresh  earth  will,  under  any 
sun,  furnish  the  moisture  sufficient.  I  once  sowed,  on  ridges, 
with  a  Bennett's  drill,  and  neither  harrowed  nor  rolled  nor  used 
any  means  at  all  of  covering  the  seeds  ;  and  yet  I  had  plenty  of 
plants  and  a  very  fine  crop  of  turnips.     I  sowed  a  piece  of  white 

60 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


turnips,  broad-cast,  at  Hyde  Park,  last  summer,  on  the  eleventh 
of  August,  which  did  very  well,  though  neither  harrowed  nor 
rolled  after  being  sown.  But,  in  both  these  cases,  there  came  rain 
directly  after  the  sowing,  which  battered  down  the  seeds  ;  and 
which  rain,  indeed,  it  was,  which  prevented  the  rolling  ;  for,  that 
cannot  take  place  when  the  ground  is  wet  :  because,  then,  the 
earth  will  adhere  to  the  roller,  which  will  go  on  growing  in  size 
like  a  rolling  snow-ball.  To  harrow  after  the  sowing  is  sure  to  do 
mischief.  We  always  bury  seeds  too  deep  :  and,  in  the  operation 
of  harrowing,  more  than  half  the  seeds  of  turnips  must  be 
destroyed,  or  rendered  useless.  If  a  seed  lies  beyond  the  proper 
depth,  it  will  either  remain  in  a  quiescent  state,  until  some  move- 
ment of  the  earth  bring  it  up  to  the  distance  from  the  surface, 
which  will  make  it  vegetate,  or,  it  will  vegetate,  and  come  up 
later  than  the  rest  of  the  plants.  It  will  he  feebler  also  ;  and  it  will 
never  be  equal  to  a  plant,  which  has  come  from  a  seed  near  the 
surface. 

96.  Before  I  proceed  further,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  some- 
thing more  respecting  the  burying  of  seed,  though  it  may  here  be 
rather  out  of  place.  Seeds  buried  below  their  proper  depth,  do 
not  come  up  :  but,  many  of  them  are  near  enough  to  the  surface, 
sometimes,  to  vegetate,  without  coming  up  ;  and  then  they  die. 
This  is  the  case,  in  many  instances,  with  more  than  one  half  of  the 
seed  that  is  sown.  But,  if  seeds  be  buried  so  deep,  that  they  do 
not  even  vegetate,  then  they  do  not  die  ;  and  this  is  one  cause, 
though  not  the  only  cause,  of  our  wondering  to  see  weeds  come 
up,  where  we  are  sure  that  no  seeds  have  fallen  for  many  years. 
At  every  digging,  or  even  ploughing,  more  or  less  of  the  seeds, 
that  have  formerly  been  buried,  come  up  near  the  surface  ;  and 
then  they  vegetate.  I  have  seen  many  instances  in  proof  of  this 
fact  ;  but,  the  particular  instance,  on  which  I  found  the  positive- 
ness  of  my  assertion,  was  in  Parsnip  seed.  It  is  a  very  delicate 
seed.  It  will,  if  beat  out,  keep  only  one  year.  I  had  a  row  of  fine 
seed  parsnips  in  my  garden,  many  of  the  seeds  of  which  fell  in  the 
gathering.  The  ground  was  dug  in  the  fall  ;  and,  when  I  saw 
it  full  of  parsnips  in  the  Spring,  I  only  regarded  this  as  a  proof, 
that  parsnips  might  be  sown  in  the  fall,  though  I  have  since  proved, 
that  it  is  a  very  bad  practice.  The  ground  was  dug  again,  and 
again  for  several  successive  years  ;  and  there  was  always  a  crop 
of  parsnips,  without  a  grain  of  seed  ever  having  been  sown  on  it. 
But  lest  any  one  should  take  it  into  his  head,  that  this  is  a  most 
delightful  way  of  saving  the  trouble  of  sowing,  I  ought  to  state, 
that  the  parsnips  coming  thus  at  random,  gave  me  a  great  deal 
more  labour,  than  the  same  crop  would  have  given  me  in  the 
regular  way  of  sowing.  Besides,  the  fall  is  not  the  time  to  sow, 
as  my  big  and  white  parsnips,  now  selling  in  New  York  market, 
may  clearly  show  ;  seeing  that  they  were  sown  in  June  !  And 
yet,  people  are  flocking  to  the  Western  Countries  in  search  of  rich 
land,  while  thousands  of  acres  of  such  land  as  I  occupy  are  lying 
f  61 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


waste  in  Long  Island,  within  three  hours  drive  of  the  all-consuming 
and  incessantly  increasing  city  of  New  York  ! 

97.  I  have  now  spoken  of  the  preparation  of  the  land  for  the 
reception  of  seeds.  As  to  the  preparation  in  the  case  of  trans- 
plantation, it  might  be  just  the  same  as  for  the  sowing  on  ridges. 
But  here  might,  in  this  case,  be  one  more  previous  ploughing, 
always  taking  care  to  plough  in  dry  weather,  which  is  an  observa- 
tion I  ought  to  have  made  before. 

98.  But,  why  should  not  the  plants,  in  this  case,  succeed  some 
other  good  crop,  as  mentioned  before  ?  I  sowed  some  early  peas 
(brought  from  England)  on  the  2nd  of  June.  I  harvested  them, 
quite  ripe  and  hard,  on  the  3 1st  of  July  ;  and  I  had  very  fine  Ruta 
Baga,  some  weighing  six  pounds  each,  after  the  peas.  How  little 
is  known  of  the  powers  of  this  soil  and  climate  !  My  potatoes 
were  of  the  kidney  sort,  which,  as  every  one  knows,  is  not  an  early 
sort.  They  were  planted  on  the  2nd  of  June  ;  and  they  were 
succeeded  by  a  most  abundant  crop  of  Ruta  Baga.  And,  the 
manure  for  the  peas  and  potatoes  served  for  the  Ruta  Baga  also. 
In  surveying  my  crops  and  feeling  grateful  to  the  kind  earth  and 
the  glorious  sun  that  produce  these,  to  me,  most  delightful  objects, 
how  often  have  I  turned,  with  an  aching  heart,  towards  the  ill- 
treated  Englishmen,  shut  up  in  dungeons  by  remorseless  tyrants, 
while  not  a  word  had  been  uttered  in  their  defence  by,  and  while 
they  were  receiving  not  one  cheering  visit,  or  comforting  word  from 
Sir  Francis  Burdett,  who  had  been  the  great  immediate  cause 
of  their  incarceration  ! 

99.  As  to  the  quantity  and  sort  of  manure  to  be  used  in  general, 
it  may  be  the  same  as  for  a  sowing  of  rye,  or  of  wheat.  I  should 
prefer  ashes  :  but,  my  large  crops  in  England  were  on  yard-dung, 
first  thi  own  into  a  heap,  and  afterwards  turned  once  or  twice,  in  the 
usual  manner  as  practised  in  England.  At  Hyde  Park  I  had 
nothing  but  rakings  up  about  the  yard,  barn,  &c,  as  described 
before.  What  I  should  do,  and  what  I  shall  do  this  year,  is,  to 
make  ashes  out  of  dirt,  or  earth,  of  any  sort,  not  very  stony. 
Nothing  is  so  easy  as  this,  especially  in  this  fine  climate.  I 
see  people  go  with  their  waggons  five  miles  for  soaper's  ashes  : 
that  is  to  say,  spent  ashes,  which  they  purchase  at  the  landing 
place  (for  they  come  to  the  island  in  vessels)  at  the  rate  of  about 
five  dollars  for  forty  bushels.  Add  the  expense  of  land -carriage, 
and  the  forty  bushels  do  not  cost  less  than  ten  dollars.  I  am  of 
opinion,  that,  by  the  burning  of  earth,  as  much  manure  may  be 
got  upon  land  for  half  a  dollar.  I  made  an  experiment  last 
summer,  which  convinces  me,  that,  if  the  spent  ashes  be  received 
as  a  gift  at  three  miles  distance  of  land-carriage,  they  are  not  a  gift 
worth  accepting.  But,  this  experiment  was  upon  a  small  scale  ; 
and,  therefore,  I  will  not  now  speak  positively  on  the  subject. 

100.  I  am  now  preparing  to  make  a  perfect  trial  of  these  ashes. 
I  have  just  ploughed  up  a  piece  of  ground,  in  which,  a  few  years 
ago,  Indian  Corn  was  planted,  and  produced,  as  I  am  assured, 

62 


RUT  A  BAGA  CULTURE 


only  stalks,  and  those  not  more  than  two  feet  high.  The  ground 
has,  every  year  since,  borne  a  crop  of  weeds,  rough  grass,  and 
briars,  or  brambles.  The  piece  is  about  ten  acres.  I  intend  to 
have  Indian  corn  on  it  ;  and,  my  manure  shall  be  made  on  the  spot, 
and  consist  of  nothing  but  burnt  earth.  If  I  have  a  decent  crop 
of  Indian  corn  on  this  land  so  manured,  it  will,  I  think,  puzzle 
my  good  neighbours  to  give  a  good  reason  for  their  going  five 
miles  for  spent  ashes. 

101.  Whether  I  succeed,  or  not,  I  will  give  an  account  of  my 
experiment.  This  I  know,  that  I,  in  the  year  1815,  burnt  ashes, 
in  one  heap,  to  the  amount  of  about  two  hundred  English  cart- 
loads, each  load  holding  about  forty  bushels.  I  should  not  sup- 
pose, that  the  burning  cost  me  more  than  five  dollars  :  and  there 
they  were  upon  the  spot,  in  the  very  field,  where  they  were  used. 
As  to  their  effect,  I  used  them  for  the  transplanted  Ruta  Baga  and 
Mangel  Wurzel,  and  they  produced  full  as  great  an  effect  as  the 
yard-dung  used  on  the  same  land.  This  process  of  burning 
earth  into  ashes,  without  suffering  the  smoke  to  escape,  during  any 
part  of  the  process,  is  a  discovery  of  Irish  origin.  It  was  pointed 
out  to  me  by  Mr.  William  Gauntlett  of  Winchester,  late  a 
Commissary  with  the  army  in  Spain.  To  this  gentleman  I  also 
owe,  England  owes,  and  I  hope  America  will  owe,  the  best  sort 
of  hogs,  that  are,  I  believe,  in  the  world.  I  was  wholly  unac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Gauntlett,  till  the  summer  of  1815,  when, 
happening  to  pass  by  my  farm,  he  saw  my  hogs,  cows,  &c,  and, 
when  he  came  to  my  house  he  called,  and  told  me,  that  he  had 
observed,  that  I  wanted  only  a  good  sort  of  hogs,  to  make  my  stock 
complete.  I  thought,  that  I  already  had  the  finest  in  England  ; 
and  I  certainly  had  a  very  fine  breed,  the  father  of  which,  with 
legs  not  more  than  about  six  inches  long,  weighed,  when  he  was 
killed,  twenty-seven  score,  according  to  our  Hampshire  mode  of 
stating  hog-meat  weight  ;  or,  five  hundred  and  forty  pounds.  This 
breed  has  been  fashioned  by  Mr.  Woods  of  Woodmancut  in 
Sussex,  who  has  been,  I  believe,  more  than  twenty  years  about  it. 
I  thought  it  perfection  itself  ;  but,  I  was  obliged  to  confess,  that 
Mr.  Gauntlett's  surpassed  it. 

102.  Of  the  earth  burning  I  will  give  an  account  in  my  next 
Part  of  this  work.  Nothing  is  easier  of  performance  ;  and  the 
materials  are  every  where  to  be  found. 

103.  I  think  that  I  have  now  pretty  clearly  given  an  account 
of  the  modes  of  sowing,  and  planting,  and  cultivating  the  Ruta 
Baga,  and  of  the  preparation  of  the  land.  It  remains  for  me  to 
speak  of  the  time  and  manner  of  harvesting,  the  quantity  of  the  crop 
and  of  the  uses  of,  and  the  mode  of  applying  the  crop. 


63 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


Time  and  Manner  of  Harvesting. 

104.  This  must  depend,  in  some  measure,  upon  the  age  of  the 
turnip  ;  for,  some  will  have  their  full  growth  earlier  than  others, 
that  is  to  say,  those,  which  are  sown  first,  or  transplanted  first 
will  be  ripe  before  those  which  are  sown,  or  transplanted  latest. 
I  have  made  ample  experiments  as  to  this  matter  ;  and  I  will,  as 
in  former  cases,  first  relate  what  I  did  :  and  then  give  my  opinion 
as  to  what  ought  to  be  done. 

105.  This  was  a  concern  in  which  I  could  have  no  knowledge 
last  fall,  never  having  seen  any  turnips  harvested  in  America,  and 
knowing,  that,  as  to  American  frosts,  English  experience  was  only 
likely  to  mislead  ;  for,  in  England,  we  leave  the  roots  standing  in 
the  ground  all  the  winter,  where  we  feed  them  off  with  sheep, 
which  scoop  them  out  to  the  very  bottom  ;  or  we  pull  them  as  we 
want  them,  and  bring  them  in  to  give  to  fatting  oxen,  to  cows, 
or  hogs.  I  had  a  great  opinion  of  the  hardiness  of  the  Ruta  Baga, 
and  was  resolved  to  try  it  here,  and  I  did  try  it  upon  too  large  a 
scale. 

106.  I  began  with  the  piece,  the  first  mentioned  in  paragraph 
46  :  a  part  of  them  were  taken  up  on  the  132/2  of  December,  after 
we  had  had  some  pretty  hard  frosts.  The  manner  of  doing  the 
work  was  this.  We  took  up  the  turnips  merely  by  pulling  them. 
The  greens  had  been  cut  off  and  given  to  cattle  before.  It 
required  a  spade,  however,  just  to  loosen  them  along  the  ridges, 
into  which  their  tap-roots  had  descended  very  deeply.  We  dug 
holes  at  convenient  distances,  of  a  square  form,  and  about  a  foot 
deep.  We  put  into  each  hole  about  fifty  bushels  of  turnips,  piling 
them  up  above  the  level  of  the  surface  of  the  land,  in  a  sort  of 
pyramidical  form.  When  the  heap  was  made,  we  scattered  over 
it  about  a  truss  of  rye-straw,  and  threw  earth  over  the  whole  to  a 
thickness  of  about  a  foot,  taking  care  to  point  the  covering  at  top, 
in  order  to  keep  out  wet. 

107.  Thus  was  a  small  part  of  the  piece  put  up.  The  14th  of 
December  was  a  Sunday,  a  day  that  I  can  find  no  Gospel  precept 
for  devoting  to  the  throwing  away  of  the  fruit  of  one's  labours, 
and  a  day  which  I  never  wili  so  devote  again.  However,  I  ought 
to  have  been  earlier.  On  the  Monday  it  rained.  On  the  Monday 
night  came  a  sharp  North-Wester  with  its  usual  companion,  at 
this  season  ;  that  is  to  say,  a  sharp  frost.  Resolved  to  finish  this 
piece  on  that  day,  I  borrowed  hands  from  my  neighbours,  who 
are  always  ready  to  assist  one  another.  We  had  about  two  acres 
and  a  half  to  do  ;  and  it  was  necessary  to  employ  about  one  half 
of  the  hands  to  go  before  the  pullers  and  loosen  the  turnips  with  a 
spade  in  the  frosty  ground.  About  ten  o'clock,  I  saw,  that  we 
should  not  finish,  and  there  was  every  appearance  of  a  hard  frost 

64 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


at  night.  In  order,  therefore,  to  expedite  the  work,  I  called  in  the 
aid  of  those  efficient  fellow- labourers,  a  pair  of  oxen,  which,  with 
a  good  strong  plough,  going  up  one  side  of  each  row  of  turnips, 
took  away  the  earth  close  to  the  bulbs,  left  them  bare  on  one  side, 
and  thus  made  it  extremely  easy  to  pull  them  up.  We  wanted 
spades  no  longer  ;  all  our  hands  were  employed  taking  up  the 
turnips  ;  and  our  job,  instead  of  being  half  done  that  day,  was 
completed  by  about  two  o'clock.  Well  and  justly  did  Moses 
order,  that  the  ox  should  not  be  muzzled  while  he  was  treading 
out  the  corn  ;  for,  surely,  no  animals  are  so  useful,  so  docile,  so 
gentle  as  these,  while  they  require  at  our  hands  so  little  care  and 
labour  in  return  ! 

108.  Now,  it  will  be  observed,  that  the  turnips  here  spoken 
of,  were  put  up  when  the  ground  and  the  turnips  were  frozen. 
Yet  they  have  kept  perfectly  sound  and  good  ;  and  I  am  preparing 
to  plant  some  of  them  for  seed.  I  am  now  writing  on  the  10 th 
of  April.  I  send  off  these  turnips  to  market  every  week.  The 
tops  and  tails,  and  offal  I  give  to  the  pigs,  to  the  ewes  and  lambs, 
and  to  a  cow,  and  to  working  oxen,  which  all  feed  together  upon 
this  offal  flung  out  about  the  barn-yard,  or  on  the  grass  ground  in 
the  orchard.  Before  they  have  done,  they  leave  not  a  morsel. 
But,  of  feeding  I  shall  speak  by  and  by. 

109.  The  other  crop  of  turnips,  I  mean  those  which  were 
transplanted,  as  mentioned  in  paragraphs  72  and  73,  and  which, 
owing  to  their  being  planted  so  late  in  the  summer,  kept  on 
growing  most  luxuriantly  till  the  very  hard  frosts  came. 

no.  We  were  now  got  on  to  the  17th  of  December  ;  and  I  had 
cabbages  to  put  up.  Saturday,  Sunday,  and  Monday,  the  21st 
and  22nd  and  23rd,  we  had  a  very  hard  frost,  as  the  reader,  if  he 
live  on  this  island,  will  well  remember.  There  came  a  thaw 
afterwards,  and  the  transplanted  turnips  were  put  up  like  the 
others  ;  but  this  hard  frost  had  pierced  them  too  deeply,  especially 
as  they  were  in  so  tender  and  luxuriant  a  state.  Many  of  these 
we  find  rotted  near  the  neck  ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  they  have 
suffered  a  loss  of  about  one  half.  An  acre,  left  to  take  their  chance 
in  the  field,  turned  out,  like  most  of  the  games  of  hazard,  a  total 
loss.     They  were  all  rotted. 

in.  This  loss  arose  wholly  from  my  want  of  sufficient  ex- 
perience. I  was  anxious  to  neglect  no  necessary  precaution  ; 
and  I  was  fully  impressed,  as  I  always  am,  with  the  advantages 
of  being  early.  But,  early  in  December,  I  lost  a  week  at  New 
York  ;  and,  though  I  worried  my  neighbours  half  to  death  to 
get  at  a  knowledge  of  the  time  of  the  hard  weather  setting  in,  I 
could  obtain  no  knowledge,  on  which  I  could  rely,  the  several 
accounts  being  so  different  from  each  other.  The  general  account 
was,  that  there  would  be  no  very  hard  weather  till  after  Christmas. 
I  shall  know  better  another  time  !  Major  Cartwright  says,  in 
speaking  of  the  tricks  of  English  Boroughmongers,  at  the 
"  Glorious  Revolution,"  that  they  will  never  be  able  to  play  the 

65 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


same  tricks  again  ;   for  that  nations,  like  rational  individuals,  are 
not  deceived  tivice  in  the  same  way. 

112.  Thus  have  I  spoken  of  the  time  and  manner  of  harvesting, 
as  they  took  place  with  me.  And,  surely,  the  expense  is  a  mere 
trifle.  Two  oxen  and  four  men  would  harvest  two  acres  in  any 
clear  day  in  the  latter  end  of  November  ;  and  thus  is  this  immense 
crop  harvested,  and  covered  completely,  for  about  two  dollars  and 
a  half  an  acre.  It  is  astonishing,  that  this  is  never  done  in 
England  !  For,  though  it  is  generally  said,  that  the  Ruta  Baga 
will  stand  any  weather  ;  I  know,  by  experience,  that  it  will  not 
stand  any  weather.  The  winter  of  the  year  1814,  that  is  to  say, 
the  months  of  January  and  February,  were  very  cold,  and  a  great 
deal  of  snow  fell  ;  and,  in  a  piece  of  twelve  acres,  I  had,  in  the 
month  of  March,  two  thirds  of  the  turnips  completely  rotten  :  and 
these  were  amongst  the  finest  that  I  ever  grew,  many  of  them 
weighing  twelve  pounds  each.  Besides,  when  taken  up  in  dry 
weather,  before  the  freezings  and  thawings  begin,  the  dirt  all  falls 
off  ;  and  the  bulbs  are  clean  and  nice  to  be  given  to  cattle  or  sheep 
in  the  stalls  or  yards.  For,  though  we  in  general  feed  off  these 
roots  upon  the  land  with  sheep,  we  cannot,  in  deep  land,  always  do 
it.  The  land  is  too  wet  :  and  particularly  for  ewes  and  lambs, 
which  are,  in  such  cases,  brought  into  a  piece  of  pasture  land,  or 
into  a  fold-yard,  where  the  turnips  are  flung  down  to  them  in  a 
dirty  state,  just  carted  from  the  field.  And,  again,  the  land  is  very 
much  injured,  and  the  labour  augmented,  by  carting  when  the 
ground  is  a  sort  of  mud-heap,  or  rather,  pool.  All  these  incon- 
veniences and  injuries  would  be  avoided  by  harvesting  in  a  dry 
day  in  November,  if  such  a  day  should,  by  an  accident,  be  found 
in  England  ;  but,  why  not  do  the  work  in  October,  and  sow  wheat 
at  once,  in  the  land  ?  More  on  this  after- cropping,  another 
time. 

113.  In  Long  Island,  and  throughout  the  United  States,  where 
the  weather  is  so  fine  in  the  fall  ;  where  every  day,  from  the 
middle  of  October  to  the  end  of  November  (except  a  rainy  day 
about  once  in  16  days),  is  as  fair  as  the  fairest  May-day  in  England, 
and  where  such  a  thing  as  a  water-furrow  in  a  field  was  never 
heard  of  ;  in  such  a  soil  as  this,  and  under  such  a  climate  as  this, 
there  never  can  arise  any  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the  harvesting 
of  turnips  in  proper  time.  I  should  certainly  do  it  in  November  : 
for,  as  we  have  seen,  a  little  frost  does  not  affect  the  bulbs  at  all. 
I  would  put  them  in  when  perfectly  dry  :  make  my  heaps  of  about 
fifty  bushels  ;  and,  when  the  frosts  approached,  I  mean  the  hard 
frosts,  I  would  cover  with  corn-stalks,  or  straw,  or  cedar  boughs, 
as  many  of  the  heaps  as  I  thought  I  should  want  in  January  and 
February  ;  for,  these  coverings  would  so  break  the  frost,  as  to 
enable  me  to  open  the  heaps  in  those  severe  months.  It  is  use- 
less and  inconvenient  to  take  into  barns,  or  out-houses,  a  very 
large  quantity  at  a  time.  Besides,  if  left  uncovered,  the  very  hard 
frosts  will  do  them  harm.     To  be  sure,  this  is  easily  prevented, 

66 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


in  the  barn,  by  throwing  a  little  straw  over  the  heap  ;  but,  being, 
by  the  means  that  I  have  pointed  out,  always  kept  ready  in  the 
field,  to  bring  in  a  larger  quantity  than  is  used  in  a  week,  or  there- 
abouts, would  be  wholly  unnecessary,  besides  being  troublesome 
from  the  great  space,  which  would  thus  be  occupied. 

114.  It  is  a  great  advantage  in  the  cultivation  of  this  crop,  that 
the  sowing,  or  transplanting  time,  comes  after  all  the  spring  grain 
and  the  Indian  Corn  are  safe  in  the  ground,  and  before  the  harvest 
of  grain  begins  ;  and  then  again,  in  the  fall,  the  taking  up  of  the 
roots  comes  after  the  grain  and  corn,  and  buck- wheat  harvests, 
and  even  after  the  sowing  of  the  winter  grain.  In  short,  it  seems 
to  me,  that  the  cultivation  of  this  crop,  in  this  country,  comes, 
as  it  were  expressly,  to  fill  up  the  unemployed  spaces  of  the 
farmer's  time  ;  but,  if  he  prefer  standing  with  arms  folded,  during 
these  spaces  of  time,  and  hearing  his  flock  bleat  themselves  half 
to  death  in  March  and  April,  or  have  no  flock,  and  scarcely  any 
cattle  or  hogs,  raise  a  few  loads  of  yard-dung,  and  travel  five  miles 
for  ashes,  and  buy  them  dear  at  the  end  of  the  five  miles  ;  if  he 
prefer  these,  then,  certainly,  I  shall  have  written  on  this  subject 
in  vain. 


Quantity  of  the  Crop. 

115.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  say,  at  present,  what  quantity 
of  Ruta  Baga  may  be  grown  on  an  acre  of  land  in  this  Island. 
My  three  acres  of  ridged  turnips,  sown  on  the  26th  of  June,  were 
very  unequal,  but,  upon  one  of  the  acres,  there  were  six  hundred 
and  forty  bushels  :  I  mean  heaped  bushels  :  that  is  to  say,  an 
English  statute  bushel  heaped  as  long  as  the  commodity  will  lie 
on.  The  transplanted  turnips  yielded  about  four  hundred  bushels 
to  the  acre  ;  but  then,  observe,  they  were  put  in  a  full  month  too 
late.     This  year,  I  shall  make  a  fair  trial. 

116.  I  have  given  an  account  of  my  raising,  upon  five  acres  in 
one  field,  and  twelve  acres  in  another  field,  one  thousand  three 
hundred  and  twenty  bushels  to  an  acre,  throughout  the  seventeen 
acres.  I  have  no  doubt  of  equalling  that  quantity  on  this  Island, 
and  that,  too,  upon  some  of  its  poorest  and  most  exhausted  land. 
They  tell  me,  indeed,  that  the  last  summer  was  a  remarkably 
fine  summer  ;  so  they  said  at  Botley,  when  I  had  my  first  pro- 
digious crop  of  Ruta  Baga.  This  is  the  case  in  all  the  pursuits 
of  life.  The  moment  a  man  excels  those,  who  ought  to  be  able 
and  willing  to  do  as  well  as  he  ;  that  moment,  others  set  to  work 
to  discover  causes  for  his  success,  other  than  those  proceeding 
from  himself.  But,  as  I  used  to  tell  my  neighbours  at  Botley,  they 
have  had  the  same  seasons  that  I  have  had.  Nothing  is  so  im- 
partial as  weather.  As  long  as  this  sort  of  observation,  or  inquiry, 
proceeds  from  a  spirit  of  emulation,  it  may  be  treated  with  great 

67 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


indulgence  ;  but,  when  it  discovers  a  spirit  of  envy,  it  becomes 
detestable,  and  especially  in  affairs  of  agriculture,  where  the 
appeal  is  made  to  our  common  parent,  and  where  no  man's  success 
can  be  injurious  to  his  neighbour,  while  it  must  be  a  benefit  to  his 
country,  or  the  country  in  which  the  success  takes  place.  I  must, 
however,  say,  and  I  say  it  with  feelings  of  great  pleasure,  as  well 
as  from  a  sense  of  justice,  that  I  have  observed  in  the  American 
farmers  no  envy  of  the  kind  alluded  to  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  the 
greatest  satisfaction,  at  my  success  ;  and  not  the  least  backward- 
ness, but  great  forwardness,  to  applaud  and  admire  my  mode  of 
cultivating  these  crops.  Not  so,  in  England,  where  the  farmers 
(generally  the  most  stupid  as  well  as  most  slavish  and  most  churlish 
part  of  the  nation)  envy  all  who  excel  them,  while  they  are  too 
obstinate  to  profit  from  the  example  of  those  whom  they  envy. 
I  say  generally  :  for  there  are  many  most  honourable  exceptions  ; 
and,  it  is  amongst  that  class  of  men  that  I  have  my  dearest  and 
most  esteemed  friends  ;  men  of  knowledge,  of  experience,  of 
integrity,  and  of  public-spirit,  equal  to  that  of  the  best  of  English- 
men in  the  worst  times  of  oppression.  I  would  not  exchange  the 
friendship  of  one  of  these  men  for  that  of  all  the  Lords  that  ever 
were  created,  though  there  are  some  of  them  very  able  and  up- 
right men,  too. 

117.  Then,  if  I  may  be  suffered  to  digress  a  little  further  here, 
there  exists,  in  England,  an  institution,  which  has  caused  a  sort  of 
identity  of  agriculture  with  politics.  The  Board  of  Agriculture, 
established  by  Pitt  for  the  purpose  of  sending  spies  about  the 
country,  under  the  guise  of  agricultural  surveyors,  in  order  to 
learn  the  cast  of  men's  politics  as  well  as  the  taxable  capacities  of 
their  farms  and  property  ;  this  Board  gives  no  premium  or  praise 
to  any  but  "  loyal  farmers,"  who  are  generally  the  greatest  fools. 
I,  for  my  part,  have  never  had  any  communication  with  it.  It  was 
always  an  object  of  ridicule  and  contempt  with  me  ;  but,  I  know 
this  to  be  the  rule  of  that  body,  which  is,  in  fact,  only  a  little  twig 
of  the  vast  tree  of  corruption,  which  stunts,  and  blights,  and 
blasts,  all  that  approaches  its  poisoned  purlieu.  This  Board 
has  for  its  Secretary,  Mr.  Arthur  Young,  a  man  of  great  talents, 
bribed  from  his  good  principles  by  this  place  of  five  hundred 
pounds  a  year.  But  Mr.  Young,  though  a  most  able  man,  is 
not  always  to  be  trusted.  He  is  a  bold  asserter  ;  and  very  few 
of  his  statements  proceed  upon  actual  experiments.  And,  as 
to  what  this  Board  has  published,  at  the  public  expense,  under  the 
name  of  Communications ,  I  defy  the  world  to  match  it  as  a  mass  of 
illiterate,  unintelligible,  useless  trash.  The  only  paper,  pub- 
lished by  this  Board,  that  I  ever  thought  worth  keeping,  was  an 
account  of  the  produce  from  a  single  cow,  communicated  by  Mr. 
Cramp,  the  jail-keeper  of  the  County  of  Sussex  ;  which  con- 
tained very  interesting  and  wonderful  facts,  properly  authen- 
ticated, and  stated  in  a  clear  manner. 

118.  Arthur  Young  is  blind,  and  never  attends  a  Board. 

68 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


Indeed,  sorrowful  to  relate,  he  is  become  a  religious  fanatic,  and 
this  in  so  desperate  a  degree  as  to  leave  no  hope  of  any  possible 
cure.  In  the  pride  of  our  health  and  strength,  of  mind  as  well  as 
of  body,  we  little  dream  of  the  chances  and  changes  of  old  age. 
Who  can  read  the  "  Travels  in  France,  Spain,  and  Italy,"  and 
reflect  on  the  present  state  of  the  admirable  writer's  mind,  without 
feeling  some  diffidence  as  to  what  may  happen  to  himself ! 

119.  Lord  Hardwicke,  who  is  now  the  President  of  the  Board, 
is  a  man,  not  exceeding  my  negro,  either  in  experience  or  natural 
abilities.  A  parcel  of  court- sycophants  are  the  Vice-Presidents. 
Their  committees  and  correspondents  are  a  set  of  justices  of  the 
peace,  nabobs  become  country-gentlemen,  and  parsons  of  the 
worst  description.  And  thus  is  this  a  mere  political  job  ;  a 
channel  for  the  squandering  of  some  thousands  a  year  of  the 
people's  money  upon  worthless  men,  who  ought  to  be  working 
in  the  fields,  or  mending  "  His  Majesty's  Highways." 

120.  Happily,  politics,  in  this  country,  have  nothing  to  do  with 
agriculture  ;  and  here,  therefore,  I  think  I  have  a  chance  to  be 
fairly  heard.  I  should, indeed,  have  been  heard  in  England  ;  but, 
I  really  could  never  bring  myself  to  do  any  thing  tending  to  im- 
prove the  estates  of  the  oppressors  of  my  country  ;  and  the  same 
consideration  now  restrains  me  from  communicating  information, 
on  the  subject  of  timber  trees,  which  would  be  of  immense  benefit 
to  England  ;  and  v/hich  information  I  shall  reserve,  till  the 
tyranny  shall  be  at  an  end.  Castlereagh,  in  the  fulness  of  his 
stupidity,  proposed,  that,  in  order  to  find  employment  for  "  the 
population,"  as  he  insolently  called  the  people  of  England,  he  would 
set  them  to  dig  holes  one  day  and  fill  them  up  the  next.  I  could 
tell  him  what  to  plant  in  the  holes,  so  as  to  benefit  the  country 
in  an  immense  degree  ;  but,  like  the  human  body  in  some  com- 
plaints, the  nation  would  now  be  really  injured  by  the  com- 
munications of  what,  if  it  were  in  a  healthy  state,  would  do  it 
good,  add  to  its  strength,  and  to  all  its  means  of  exertion. 

121.  To  return  from  this  digression,  I  am  afraid  of  no  bad 
seasons.  The  drought,  which  is  the  great  enemy  to  be  dreaded  in 
this  country,  I  am  quite  prepared  for.  Give  me  ground  that  I 
can  plough  ten  or  twelve  inches  deep,  and  give  me  Indian  corn 
spaces  to  plough  in,  and  no  sun  can  burn  me  up.  I  have  men- 
tioned Mr.  Curwen's  experiment  before  ;  or,  rather  Tull's  ; 
for  he  it  is,  who  made  all  the  discoveries  of  this  kind.  Let  any 
man,  just  to  try,  leave  half  a  rod  of  ground  un dug  from  the  month 
of  May  to  that  of  October  ;  and  another  half  rod  let  him  dig  and 
break  fine  every  ten  or  fifteen  days.  Then,  whenever  there  has 
been  fifteen  days  of  good  scorching  sun,  let  him  go  and  dig  a  hole 
in  each.  If  he  does  not  find  the  hard  ground  dry  as  dust,  and  the 
other  moist  :  then  let  him  say,  that  I  know  nothing  about  these 
matters.  So  erroneous  is  the  common  notion,  that  ploughing 
in  dry  weather  lets  in  the  drought  ! 

122.  Of  course,  proceeding  upon  this  fact,  which  I  state  as  the 

69 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


result  of  numerous  experiments,  I  should,  if  visited  with  long 
droughts,  give  one  or  two  additional  ploughings  between  the  crops 
when  growing.  That  is  all  ;  and,  with  this,  in  Long  Island,  I 
defy  all  droughts. 

123.  But,  why  need  I  insist  upon  this  effect  of  ploughing  in 
dry  weather  ?  Why  need  I  insist  on  it  in  an  Indian  corn  country  ? 
Who  has  not  seen  fields  of  Indian  corn  looking,  to-day,  yellow 
and  sickly,  and,  in  four  days  hence  (the  weather  being  dry  all  the 
while),  looking  green  and  flourishing  ;  and  this  wonderful  effect 
produced  merely  by  the  plough  ?  Why,  then,  should  not  the 
same  effect  always  proceed  from  the  same  cause  ?  The  deeper 
you  plough,  the  greater  the  effect,  however  ;  for  there  is  a  greater 
body  of  earth  to  exhale  from,  and  to  receive  back  the  tribute  of  the 
atmosphere.  Mr.  Curwen  tells  us  of  a  piece  of  cattle-cabbages. 
In  a  very  dry  time  in  July,  they  looked  so  yellow  and  blue,  that  he 
almost  despaired  of  them.  He  sent  in  his  ploughs  ;  and  a  gentle- 
man, who  had  seen  them  when  the  ploughs  went  in  on  the  Monday, 
could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes  when  he  saw  them  on  the  next 
Saturday,  though  it  had  continued  dry  all  the  week. 

124.  To  perform  these  summer  ploughings,  in  this  island,  is 
really  nothing.  The  earth  is  so  light  and  in  such  fine  order,  and 
so  easily  displaced  and  replaced.  I  used  one  horse  for  the  pur- 
pose, last  summer,  and  a  very  slight  horse  indeed.  An  ox  is, 
however,  better  for  this  work  ;  and  this  may  be  accomplished  by 
the  use  of  a  collar  and  two  traces,  or  by  a  single  yoke  and  two 
traces.  Tull  recommends  the  latter  ;  and  I  shall  try  it  for  Indian 
corn  as  well  as  for  turnips.*  Horses,  if  they  are  strong  enough, 
are  not  so  steady  as  oxen,  which  are  more  patient  also,  and  with 
which  you  may  send  the  plough-share  down  without  any  of  the 
fretting  and  unequal  pulling,  or  jerking,  that  you  have  to  en- 
counter with  horses.  And,  as  to  the  slow  pace  of  the  ox,  it  is  the 
old  story  of  the  tortoise  and  the  hare.  If  I  had  known,  in  England, 
of  the  use  of  oxen,  what  I  have  been  taught  upon  Long  island,  I 

*  Since  the  above  paragraph  was  written,  I  have  made  a  single- 
ox-yoke;  and,  I  find  it  answer  excellently  well.  Now,  my  work  is 
much  shortened;  for,  in  forming  ridges,  two  oxen  are  awkward. 
They  occupy  a  wide  space,  and  one  of  them  is  obliged  to  walk 
upon  the  ploughed  land,  which,  besides  making  the  ridge  uneven 
at  top,  presses  the  ground,  which  is  injurious.  For  ploughing 
between  the  rows  of  turnips  and  Indian  corn  also,  what  a  great 
convenience  this  will  be!  An  ox  goes  steadier  than  a  horse,  and 
will  plough  deeper,  without  fretting  and  without  tearing;  and  he 
wants  neither  harness-maker  nor  groom.  The  plan  of  my  yoke  I 
took  from  TULL.  I  showed  it  to  my  workman,  who  chopped  off 
the  limb  of  a  tree,  and  made  the  yoke  in  an  hour.  It  is  a  piece 
of  wood,  with  two  holes  to  receive  two  ropes,  about  three  quar- 
ters of  an  inch  in  diameter.  These  traces  are  fastened  into  the 
yoke  merely  by  a  knot,  which  prevents  the  ends  from  passing 
through  the  holes,  while  the  other  ends  are  fastened  to  the  two 
ends  of  a  Wiffle-tree,  as  it  is  called  in  Long  Island,  of  a  Wipple- 
tree,  as  it  is  called  in  Kent,  and  of  a  Wippance,  as  it  is  called 
in  Hampshire.  I  am  but  a  poor  draftsman;  but,  if  the  printer 
can  find  any  thing  to  make  the. representation  with,  the  following 

70 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


might  have  saved  myself  some  hundreds  of  pounds  a  year.  I 
ought  to  have  followed  Tull  in  this  as  in  all  other  parts  of  his 
manner  of  cultivating  land.  But,  in  our  country,  it  is  difficult 
to  get  a  ploughman  to  look  at  an  ox.  In  this  Island  the  thing  is 
done  so  completely  and  so  easily,  that  it  was,  to  me,  quite  wonder- 
ful to  behold.  To  see  one  of  these  Long- Islanders  going  into  the 
field,  or  orchard,  at  sun-rise,  with  his  yoke  in  his  hand,  call  his 
oxen  by  name  to  come  and  put  their  necks  under  the  yoke,  drive 
them  before  him  to  the  plough,  just  hitch  a  hook  on  to  the  ring 
of  the  yoke,  and  then,  without  any  thing  except  a  single  chain  and 
the  yoke,  with  no  reins,  no  halter,  no  traces,  no  bridle,  no  driver, 
set  to  plough,  and  plough  a  good  acre  and  a  half  in  the  day.  To 
see  this  would  make  an  English  farmer  stare  ;  and  well  it  might, 
when  he  looked  back  to  the  ceremonious  and  expensive  business 
of  keeping  and  managing  a  plough-team  in  England. 

125.  These  are  the  means,  which  I  would,  and  which  I  shall 
use,  to  protect  my  crops  against  the  effects  of  a  dry  season.  So 
that,  as  every  one  has  the  same  means  at  his  command,  no  one 
need  be  afraid  of  drought.  It  is  a  bright  plough-share  that  is 
always  wanted  much  more  than  the  showers.  With  this  culture 
there  is  no  fear  of  a  crop  ;  and  though  it  amount  to  only  five 
hundred  bushels  on  an  acre,  what  crop  is  half  so  valuable. 

126.  The  bulk  of  crop,  however,  in  the  broadcast,  or  random 
method,  may  be  materially  affected  by  drought  :  for  in  that  case, 
the  plough  cannot  come  to  supply  the  place  of  showers.  The 
ground  there  will  be  dry,  and  keep  dry  in  a  dry  time  ;  as  in  the 
case  of  the  supposed  half  rod  of  undug  ground  in  the  garden. 
The  weeds,  too,  will  come  and  help  by  their  roots,  to  suck  the 
moisture  out  of  the  ground.  As  to  the  hand-hoeings,  they  may 
keep  down  weeds  to  be  sure,  and  they  raise  a  trifling  portion  of 
exhalation  ;  but,  it  is  trifling  indeed.  Dry  weather,  if  of  long 
continuation,  makes  the  leaves  become  of  a  bluish  colour  ;  and, 
when  this  is  once  the  case,  all  the  rain  and  all  the  fine  weather  in 

draft    will    clearly    show    what    I    have   meant    to    describe    in 

words  :— 

<\„ 

[I 


When  the  corn  (Indian)  and  turnips  get  to  a  size,  sufficient  to 
attract  the  appetite  of  the  ox,  you  have  only  to  put  on  a  muzzle. 
This  is  what  Mr.  TULL  did;  for,  though  we  ought  not  to  muzzle 
the  ox  "  as  he  treadeth  out  the  corn,"  we  may  do  it,  even  for  his 
own  sake,  amongst  other  considerations,  when  he  is  assisting  us 
to  bring  the  crop  to  perfection. 

71 


RUT  A  BAG  A  CULTURE 


the  world  will  never  make  the  crop  a  good  one  ;  because  the 
plough  cannot  move  amidst  this  scene  of  endless  irregularity. 
This  is  one  of  the  chief  reasons  why  the  ridge  method  is  best. 


Uses  of,  and  Mode  of  applying,  the  Crop. 

127.  It  is  harder  to  say  what  uses  this  root  may  not  be  put  to, 
than  what  uses  it  may  be  put  to,  in  the  feeding  of  animals.  It  is 
eaten  greedily  by  sheep,  horn-cattle,  and  hogs,  in  its  raw  state. 
Boiled,  or  steamed  (which  is  better),  no  dog  that  I  ever  saw  will 
refuse  it.  Poultry  of  all  sorts  will  live  upon  it  in  its  cooked  state. 
Some  dogs  will  even  eat  it  raw  ;  a  fact  that  I  first  became  ac- 
quainted with  by  perceiving  my  Shepherd's  dog  eating  in  the 
field  along  with  the  sheep.  I  have  two  Spaniels  that  come  into 
the  barn  and  eat  it  now  ;  and  yet  they  are  both  in  fine  condition. 
Some  horses  will  nearly  live  upon  it  in  the  raw  state  ;  others  are 
not  so  fond  of  it. 

128.  Let  me  give  an  account  of  what  I  am  doing  now  (in  the 
month  of  April)  with  my  crop. 

129.  It  is  not  pretended,  that  this  root,  measure  for  measure, 
is  equal  to  Indian  corn  in  the  ear.  Therefore,  as  I  can  get  Indian 
corn  in  the  ear  for  half  a  dollar  a  bushel,  and,  as  I  sell  my  Ruta 
Baga  for  half  a  dollar  a  bushel  at  New  York,  I  am  very  sparing  of 
the  use  of  the  latter  for  animals.  Indeed,  I  use  none  at  home, 
except  such  as  have  been  injured,  as  above-mentioned,  by  the 
delay  in  the  harvesting.  These  damaged  roots  I  apply  in  the 
following  manner. 

130.  Twice  a  day  I  take  about  two  bushels,  and  scatter  them 
about  upon  the  grass  for  fifteen  ewes  with  their  lambs,  and  a  few 
wether  sheep,  and  for  seven  stout  store  pigs,  which  eat  with 
them.  Once  a  day  I  fling  out  a  parcel  of  the  refuse  that  have  been 
cut  from  the  roots  sent  to  market,  along  with  cabbage  leaves  and 
stems,  parsnips,  fibres,  and  the  like.  Here  the  working  oxen, 
hogs,  cows,  sheep,  and  fowls',  all  feed  as  they  please.  All  these 
animals  are  in  excellent  condition.  The  cow  has  no  other  food  ; 
the  working  oxen  a  lock  of  hay  twice  a  day  ;  the  ewes  an  ear  of 
Indian  corn  each  ;  the  pigs  nothing  but  the  roots  ;  the  fowls  and 
ducks  and  turkeys  are  never  fed  in  any  other  vf&y,  though  they 
know  how  to  feed  themselves  whenever  there  is  any  thing  good  to 
be  found  above  ground. 

131.  I  am  weaning  some  pigs,  which,  as  every  one  knows,  is  an 
affair  of  milk  and  meal.  I  have  neither.  I  give  about  three 
buckets  of  boiled  Ruta  Baga  to  seven  pigs  every  day,  not  having  any 
convenience  for  steaming  ;  two  baits  of  Indian  corn  in  the  ear. 
And,  with  this  diet,  increasing  the  quantity  with  the  growth  of  the 
pigs,  I  expect  to  turn  them  out  of  the  sty  fatter  (if  that  be  possible) 

72 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


than  they  entered  it.  Now,  if  this  be  so,  every  farmer  will  say, 
that  this  is  what  never  was  done  before  in  America.  We  all  know 
how  important  a  thing  it  is  to  wean  a  pig  well.  Any  body  can 
wean  them  without  milk  and  meal  :  but,  then,  the  pigs  are  good 
for  nothing.  They  remain  three  months  afterwards  and  never 
grow  an  inch  ;  and  they  are,  indeed,  not  worth  having.  To  have 
milk,  you  must  have  cows,  and  cows  are  vast  consumers  !  To 
have  cows,  you  must  have  female  labour,  which,  in  America,  is  a 
very  precious  commodity.  You  cannot  have  meal  without 
sharing  in  kind  pretty  liberally  with  the  miller,  besides  bestowing 
labour,  however  busy  you  may  be,  to  carry  the  corn  to  mill  and 
bring  the  meal  back.  I  am,  however,  speaking  here  of  the  pigs 
from  my  English  breed  ;  though  I  am  far  from  supposing  that 
the  common  pigs  might  not  be  weaned  in  the  same  way. 

132.  Sows  with  young  pigs  I  feed  thus  :  boiled  Ruta  Baga  twice 
a  day.  About  three  ears  of  Indian  corn  a  piece  twice  a  day. 
As  much  offal  Ruta  Baga  raw  as  they  will  eat.  Amongst  this 
boiled  Ruta  Baga,  the  pot-liquor  of  the  house  goes,  of  course  ; 
but,  then,  the  dogs,  I  dare  say,  take  care  that  the  best  shall  fall 
to  their  lot  ;  and  as  there  are  four  of  them  pretty  fat,  their  share 
cannot  be  very  small.  Every  one  knows  what  good  food,  how 
much  meal  and  milk  are  necessary  to  sows  which  have  pigs.  I 
have  no  milk,  for  my  cow  has  not  yet  calved.  And,  then,  what  a 
chance  concern  this  is  ;  for,  the  sows  may  perversely  have  pigs  at 
the  time  when  the  cows  do  not  please  to  give  milk  :  or,  rather, 
when  they,  poor  things,  without  any  fault  of  theirs,  are  permitted 
to  go  dry,  which  never  need  be,  and  never  ought  to  be  the  case.  I 
had  a  cow  once  that  made  more  than  two  pounds  of  butter  during 
the  week,  and  had  a  calf  on  the  Saturday  night.  Cows  always 
ought  to  be  milked  to  the  very  day  of  their  calving,  and  during 
the  whole  time  of  their  suckling  their  calves.  But,  "  sufficient 
unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  Let  us  leave  this  matter  till 
another  time.  Having,  however,  accidentally  mentioned  cozvs, 
I  will  just  observe,  that  in  the  little  publication  of  Mr.  Cramp, 
mentioned  above,  as  having  been  printed  by  the  Board  of  Agri- 
culture, it  was  stated  and  the  proof  given,  that  his  single  cow  gave 
him,  clear  profit,  for  several  successive  years,  more  than  fifty 
pounds  sterling  a  year,  or  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  twenty  dollars. 
This  was  clear  profit  :  reckoning  the  food  and  labour,  and  taking 
credit  for  the  calf,  the  butter,  and  for  the  skim-milk  at  a  penny 
a  quart  only.  Mr.  Cramp's  was  a  Sussex  cow.  Mine  were  of 
the  Alderney  breed.  Little  small-boned  things  ;  but,  two  of  my 
cows,  fed  upon  three  quarters  of  an  acre  of  grass  ground,  in  the 
middle  of  my  shrubbery,  and  fastened  to  pins  in  the  ground, 
which  were  shifted  twice  a  day,  made  three  hundred  pounds  of 
butter  from  the  28th  of  March  to  the  27th  of  June.  This  is  a  finer 
country  for  cattle  than  England  ;    and  yet,  what  do  I  see  ! 

133.  This  difficulty  about  feeding  sows  with  young  pigs  and 
weaning  pigs,  is  one  of  the  greatest  hindrances  to  improvement  ; 

73 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


for,  after  all,  what  animal  produces  flesh  meat  like  the  hog  ? 
Applicable  to  all  uses,  either  fresh  or  salted,  is  the  meat.  Good 
in  all  its  various  shapes.  The  animal  killable  at  all  ages.  Quickly- 
fatted.  Good  if  half  fat.  Capable  of  supporting  an  immense 
burden  of  fat.  Demanding  but  little  space  for  its  accommoda- 
tion ;  and  yet,  if  grain  and  corn  and  milk  are  to  be  their  principal 
food,  during  their  lives,  they  cannot  multiply  very  fast  ;  because 
many  upon  a  farm  cannot  be  kept  to  much  profit.  But,  if,  by 
providing  a  sufficiency  of  Ruta  Baga,  a  hundred  pigs  could  be 
raised  upon  a  farm  in  a  year,  and  carried  on  till  fatting  time,  they 
would  be  worth,  when  ready  to  go  into  the  fatting  sty,  fifteen 
dollars  each.  This  would  be  something  worth  attending  to  ; 
and  the  farm  must  become  rich  from  the  manure.  The  Ruta 
Baga,  taken  out  of  the  heaps  early  in  April,  will  keep  well  and 
sound  all  the  summer  ;  and  with  a  run  in  an  orchard,  or  in  a 
grassy  place,  it  will  keep  a  good  sort  of  hog  always  in  a  very 
thriving,  and  even  fleshy  state. 

134.  This  root,  being  called  a  turnip,  is  regarded  as  a  turnip, 
as  a  common  turnip,  than  which  nothing  can  be  much  less  re- 
sembling it.  The  common  turnip  is  a  very  poor  thing.  The 
poorest  of  all  the  roots  of  the  bulb  kind,  cultivated  in  the  fields  ; 
and  the  Ruta  Baga,  all  taken  together,  is,  perhaps,  the  very  best. 
It  loses  none  of  its  good  qualities  by  being  long  kept,  though  dry 
all  the  while.  A  neighbour  of  mine  in  Hampshire,  having  saved 
a  large  piece  of  Ruta  Baga  for  seed,  and  having,  after  harvesting 
the  seed,  accidentally  thrown  some  of  the  roots  into  his  yard,  saw 
his  hogs  eat  these  old  roots,  which  had  borne  the  seed.  He  gave 
them  some  more,  and  saw  that  they  ate  them  greedily.  He, 
therefore,  went  and  bought  a  whole  drove,  in  number  about  forty, 
of  lean  pigs,  of  a  good  large  size,  brought  them  into  his  yard, 
carted  in  the  roots  of  his  seed  Ruta  Baga,  and,  without  having 
given  the  pigs  a  handful  of  any  other  sort  of  food,  sold  out  his 
pigs  as  fat  porkers.  And,  indeed,  it  is  a  fact  well  known,  that  sheep 
and  cattle,  as  well  as  hogs,  will  thrive  upon  this  root  after  it  has 
borne  seed,  which  is  what,  I  believe,  can  be  said  of  no  other  root 
or  plant. 

135.  When  we  feed  off  our  Ruta  Baga  in  the  fields,  in  England, 
by  sheep,  there  are  small  parts  left  by  the  sheep  :  the  shells  which 
they  have  left  after  scooping  out  the  pulp  of  the  bulb  ;  the  tap- 
root ;  and  other  little  bits.  These  are  picked  out  of  the  ground, 
and  when  washed  by  the  rain,  other  sheep  follow  and  live  upon 
them.  Or,  in  default  of  other  sheep,  hogs  or  cattle  are  turned  in 
in  dry  weather,  and  they  leave  not  a  morsel. 

136.  Nor  are  the  greens  to  be  forgotten.  In  England,  they  are 
generally  eaten  by  the  sheep,  when  they  are  turned  in  upon  them. 
When  the  roots  are  taken  up  for  uses  at  the  home-stead,  the 
greens  are  given  to  store-pigs  and  lean  cattle.  I  cut  mine  off,, 
while  the  roots  were  in  the  ground,  and  gave  them  to  fatting 
cattle  upon  grass  land,  alternately  with  Indian  corn  in  the  ear  ; 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


and,  in  this  way,  they  are  easily  and  most  profitably  applied,  and 
they  come,  too,  just  after  the  grass  is  gone  from  the  pastures.  An 
acre  produces  about  four  good  waggon  loads  of  greens  ;  and  they 
are  taken  off  fresh  and  fresh  as  they  are  wanted,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  roots  are  thus  made  ready  for  going  at  once  into  the 
heaps.  Pigs,  sheep,  cattle  ;  all  like  the  greens  as  well  as  they  do 
the  roots.  Try  any  of  them  with  the  greens  of  white  turnips  ; 
and,  if  they  touch  them,  they  will  have  changed  their  natures,  or, 
at  least,  their  tastes. 

137.  The  Mangel  Wurzel,  the  cabbage,  the  carrot,  and  the 
parsnip,  are  all  useful  ;  and  the  latter,  that  is  to  say,  the  parsnip, 
very  valuable  indeed  ;  but  the  main  cattle-crop  is  the  Ruta  Baga. 
Even  the  white  turnip,  if  well  cultivated,  may  be  of  great  use  ;  and, 
as  it  admits  of  being  sown  later,  it  may  often  be  very  desirable  to 
raise  it.  But,  reserving  myself  to  speak  fully,  in  a  future  part  of 
my  work,  of  my  experiments  as  to  these  crops,  I  shall  now  make 
a  short  inquiry  as  to  the  value  of  a  crop  of  Ruta  Baga,  compared 
with  the  value  of  any  other  crop.  I  will  just  observe,  in  this 
place,  however,  that  I  have  grown  finer  carrots,  parsnips,  and 
Mangel  Wurzel,  and  even  finer  cabbages,  than  I  ever  grew  upon 
the  richest  land  in  Hampshire,  though  not  a  seed  of  any  of  them 
was  put  into  the  ground  till  the  month  of  June. 

138.  A  good  mode,  it  appears  to  me,  of  making  my  proposed 
comparative  estimate,  will  be  to  say,  how  I  would  proceed,  sup- 
posing me  to  have  a  farm  of  my  own  in  this  island,  of  only  one 
hundred  acres.  If  there  were  not  twelve  acres  of  orchard  near 
the  house,  I  would  throw  as  much  grass  land  to  the  orchard  as 
would  make  up  the  twelve  acres,  which  I  could  fence  in  an  effectual 
manner  against  small  pigs  as  well  as  large  oxen. 

139.  Having  done  this,  I  would  take  care  to  have  fifteen  acres 
of  good  Indian  corn,  well  planted,  well  suckered,  and  well  tilled  in 
all  respects.  Good,  deep  ploughing  between  the  plants  would 
give  me  forty  bushels  of  shelled  corn  to  an  acre  ;  and  a  ton  to  the 
acre  of  fodder  for  my  four  working  oxen  and  three  cows,  and  my 
sheep  and  hogs,  of  which  I  shall  speak  presently. 

140.  I  would  have  twelve  acres  of  Ruta  Baga,  three  acres  of  early 
cabbages,  an  acre  of  Mangel  Wurzel,  an  acre  of  carrots  and 
parsnips,  and  as  many  white  turnips  as  would  grow  between  my 
rows  of  Indian  corn  after  my  last  ploughing  of  that  crop. 

141.  With  these  crops,  which  would  occupy  thirty-two  acres  of 
ground,  I  should  not  fear  being  able  to  keep  a  good  house  in  all 
sorts  of  meat,  together  with  butter  and  milk,  and  to  send  to  market 
nine  quarters  of  beef  and  three  hides,  a  hundred  early  fat  lambs, 
a  hundred  hogs,  weighing  twelve  score,  as  we  call  it  in  Hampshire, 
or,  two  hundred  and  forty  pounds  each,  and  a  hundred  fat  ewes 
These,  altogether,  would  amount  to  about  three  thousand  dollars 
exclusive  of  the  cost  of  a  hundred  ewes  and  of  three  oxen  ;  I 
should  hope,  that  the  produce  of  my  trees  in  the  orchard  and  of 
the  other  fifty-six  acres  of  my  farm  would  pay  the  rent  and  the 

75 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


labour  ,  for,  as  to  taxes,  the  amount  is  not  worth  naming, 
especially  after  the  sublime  spectacle  of  that  sort,  which  the 
world  beholds   in  England. 

142.  I  am,  you  will  perceive,  not  making  any  account  of  the 
price  of  Ruta  Baga,  cabbages,  carrots,  parsnips  and  white  turnips 
at  New  York,  or  any  other  market.  I  now,  indeed,  sell  carrots 
and  parsnips  at  three  quarters  of  a  dollar  the  hundred,  by  tale  ; 
cabbages  (of  last  fall)  at  about  three  dollars  a  hundred,  and  white 
turnips  at  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  a  bushel.  When  this  can  be  done, 
and  the  distance  is  within  twenty  or  thirty  miles  on  the  best  road 
in  the  world,  it  will,  of  course,  be  done  ;  but,  my  calculations  are 
built  upon  a  supposed  consumption  of  the  whole  upon  the  farm 
by  animals  of  one  sort  or  another. 

143.  My  feeding  would  be  nearly  as  follows.  I  will  begin  with 
February  ;  for,  until  then,  the  Ruta  Baga  does  not  come  to  its 
sweetest  taste.  It  is  like  an  apple,  that  must  have  time  to  ripen  ; 
but,  then,  it  retains  its  goodness  much  longer.  I  have  proved, 
and  especially  in  the  feeding  of  hogs,  that  the  Ruta  Baga  is  never 
so  good,  till  it  arrives  at  a  mature  state.  In  February,  and  about 
the  first  of  that  month,  I  should  begin  bringing  in  my  Ruta  Baga, 
in  the  manner  before  described.  My  three  oxen,  which  would 
have  been  brought  forward  by  other  food,  to  be  spoken  of  by  and 
by,  would  be  tied  up  in  a  stall  looking  into  one  of  those  fine  com- 
modious barn  floors  which  we  have  upon  this  island.  Their 
stall  should  be  warm,  and  they  should  be  kept  well  littered,  and 
cleaned  out  frequently.  The  Ruta  Baga  just  chopped  into  large 
pieces  with  a  spade  or  shovel,  and  tossed  into  the  manger  to  the 
oxen  at  the  rate  of  about  two  bushels  a  day  to  each  ox,  would  make 
them  completely  fat,  without  the  aid  of  corn,  hay,  or  any  other 
thing.  I  should,  probably,  kill  one  ox  at  Christmas,  and,  in  that 
case,  he  must  have  had  a  longer  time  than  the  others  upon  other 
food.  If  I  killed  one  of  the  two  remaining  oxen  in  the  middle  of 
March,  and  the  other  on  the  first  of  May,  they  would  consume 
266  bushels  of  Ruta  Baga. 

144.  My  hundred  ewes  would  begin  upon  Ruta  Baga  at  the 
same  time,  and,  as  my  grass  ground  would  be  only  twelve  acres 
until  after  hay-time,  I  shall  suppose  them  to  be  fed  on  this  root 
till  July,  and  they  will  always  eat  it  and  thrive  upon  it.  They 
will  eat  about  eight  pounds  each,  a  day  ;  so  that,  for  150  days  it 
would  require  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds  weight, 
or  two  thousand  four  hundred  bushels. 

145.  Fourteen  breeding  sows  to  be  kept  all  the  year  round, 
would  bring  a  hundred  pigs  in  the  Spring,  and  they  and  their 
pigs  would,  during  the  same  150  days,  consume  much  about  the 
same  quantity  ;  for,  though  the  pigs  would  be  small  during  these 
150  days,  yet  they  eat  a  great  deal  more  than  sheep  in  proportion 
to  their  size,  or  rather  bulk.  However,  as  they  would  eat  very  little 
during  the  first  60  days  of  their  age,  I  have  rather  over-rated  their 
consumption. 

76 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


146.  Three  cows  and  four  working  oxen  would,  during  the  150 
days,  consume  about  one  thousand  bushels,  which  indeed,  would 
be  more  than  sufficient,  because,  during  a  great  part  of  the  time 
they  would  more  than  half  live  upon  corn-stalks  ;  and,  indeed, 
this,  to  a  certain  extent,  would  be  the  case  with  the  sheep.  How- 
ever, as  I  mean  that  every  thing  should  be  of  a  good  size,  and  live 
well,  I  made  ample  provision. 

147.  I  should  want,  then,  to  raise  five  hundred  bushels  of  Ruta 
Baga  upon  each  of  my  twelve  acres  ;  and  why  should  I  not  do  it, 
seeing  that  I  have  this  year  raised  six  hundred  and  forty  bushels 
upon  an  acre,  under  circumstances  such  as  I  have  stated  them  ? 
I  lay  it  down,  therefore,  that,  with  a  culture  as  good  as  that  of 
Indian  corn,  any  man  may,  on  this  island  (where  corn  will  grow) 
have  500  bushels  to  the  acre. 

148.  I  am  now  come  to  the  first  of  July.  My  oxen  are  fatted 
and  disposed  of.  My  lambs  are  gone  to  market,  the  last  of  them 
a  month  ago.  My  pigs  are  weaned  and  of  a  good  size.  And  now 
my  Ruta  Baga  is  gone.  But  my  ewes,  kept  well  through  the 
winter,  will  soon  be  fat  upon  the  12  acres  of  orchard  and  the  hay- 
ground,  aided  by  my  three  acres  of  early  cabbages,  which  are  now 
fit  to  begin  cutting,  or,  rather,  pulling  up.  The  weight  of  this 
crop  may  be  made  very  great  indeed.  Ten  thousand  plants  will 
stand  upon  an  acre,  in  four  feet  ridges,  and  every  plant  ought  to 
weigh  three  pounds  at  least.  I  have  shown  before  how  advan- 
tageously Ruta  Baga  transplanted  would  follow  these  cabbages, 
all  through  the  months  of  July  and  August.  But  what  a  crop  of 
Buck-wheat  would  follow  such  of  the  cabbages  as  came  off  in 
July  !  My  cabbages,  together  with  my  hay-fields  and  grain- 
fields  after  harvest,  and  about  forty  or  fifty  waggon-loads  of  Ruta 
Baga  greens,  would  carry  me  along  well  till  December  (the  cab- 
bages being  planted  at  different  times)  ;  for,  my  ewes  would  be 
sold  fat  in  July,  and  my  pigs  would  be  only  increasing  in  demand 
for  food  ;  and  the  new  hundred  ewes  need  not,  and  ought  not,  to 
be  kept  so  well  as  if  they  were  fatting,  or  had  lambs  by  their  side. 

149.  From  the  first  of  December  to  the  first  of  February, 
Mangel  Wurzel  and  white  turnips  would  keep  the  sheep  and  cattle 
and  breeding  sows  plentifully  ;  for  the  latter  will  live  well  upon 
Mangel  Wurzel  ;  and  my  hundred  hogs,  intended  for  fatting, 
would  be  much  more  than  half  fat  upon  the  carrots  and  parsnips. 
I  should,  however,  more  probably  keep  my  parsnips  till  Spring, 
and  mix  the  feeding  with  carrots  with  the  feeding  with  corn 
for  the  first  month  or  fifteen  days,  with  regard  to  the  fatting  hogs. 
None  of  these  hogs  would  require  more  than  three  bushels  of 
corn  each  to  finish  them  completely.  My  other  three  hundred 
bushels  would  be  for  sows  giving  suck  ;  the  ewes,  now  and  then 
in  wet  weather  ;    and  for  other  occasional  purposes. 

150.  Thus  all  my  hay  and  oats,  and  wheat  and  rye  might  be 
sold,  leaving  me  the  straw  for  litter.  These,  surely,  would  pay 
the  rent  and  the  labour  ;   and,  if  I  am  told,  that  I  have  taken  no 

G  77 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


account  of  the  mutton,  and  lamb,  and  pork,  that  my  house  would 
demand,  neither  have  I  taken  any  account  of  a  hundred  summer 
pigs,  which  the  fourteen  sows  would  have,  and  which  would 
hardly  fail  to  bring  two  hundred  dollars.  Poultry  demand  some 
food  :  but  three  parts  of  their  raising  consists  of  care  :  and,  if  I 
had  nobody  in  my  house  to  bestow  this  care,  I  should,  of  course, 
have  the  less  number  of  mouths  to  feed. 

151.  But,  my  horses  !  Will  not  they  swallow  my  hay  and  my 
oats  ?  No  :  for  I  want  no  horses.  But,  am  I  never  to  take  a 
ride  then  ?  Aye,  but,  if  I  do,  I  have  no  right  to  lay  the  expense 
of  it  to  the  account  of  the  farm.  I  am  speaking  of  how  a  man 
may  live  by  and  upon  a  farm.  If  a  merchant  spend  a  thousand  a 
year,  and  gain  a  thousand,  does  he  say,  that  his  traffic  has  gained 
him  nothing  ?  When  men  lose  money  by  farming,  as  they  call  it, 
they  forget,  that  it  is  not  the  farming,  but  other  expenses  that  take 
away  their  money.  It  is,  in  fact,  they  that  rob  the  farm,  and  not 
the  farm  them.  Horses  may  be  kept  for  the  purposes  of  going 
to  church,  or  to  meeting,  or  to  pay  visits.  In  many  cases  this 
may  be  not  only  convenient,  but  necessary,  to  a  family  ;  but, 
upon  this  Island,  I  am  very  sure,  that  it  is  neither  convenient  nor 
necessary  to  a  farm.  "  What  !  "  the  ladies  will  say,  "  would  you 
have  us  to  be  shut  up  at  home  all  our  lives  ;  or  be  dragged  about 
'  by  oxen'  ?  "  By  no  means  ;  not  I  !  I  should  be  very  sorry  to 
be  thought  the  author  of  any  such  advice.  I  have  no  sort  of  ob- 
jection to  the  keeping  of  horses  upon  a  farm  ;  but,  I  do  insist 
upon  it,  that  all  the  food  and  manual  labour  required  by  such 
horses,  ought  to  be  considered  as  so  much  taken  from  the  clear 
profits  of  the  farm. 

152.  I  have  made  sheep,  and  particularly  lambs,  a  part  of  my 
supposed  stock  ;  but,  I  do  not  know,  that  I  should  keep  any 
beyond  what  might  be  useful  for  my  house.  Hogs  are  the  most 
profitable  stock,  if  you  have  a  large  quantity  of  the  food  that  they 
will  thrive  on.  They  are  foul  feeders  ;  but,  they  will  eat  nothing 
that  is  poor  in  its  nature  ;  that  is  to  say,  they  will  not  thrive  on  it. 
They  are  the  most  able  tasters  in  all  the  creation  ;  and,  that  which 
they  like  best,  you  may  be  quite  sure  has  the  greatest  proportion 
of  nutritious  matter  in  it,  from  a  white  turnip  to  a  piece  of  beef, 
They  will  prefer  meat  to  corn,  and  cooked  meat  to  raw  ;  they 
will  leave  parsnips  for  corn  or  grain  ;  they  will  leave  carrots  for 
parsnips  ;  they  will  leave  Ruta  Baga  for  carrots  ;  they  will  leave 
cabbages  for  Ruta  Baga  ;  they  will  leave  Mangel  Wurzel  for 
cabbages  ;  they  will  leave  potatoes  (both  being  raw)  for  Mangel 
Wurzel.  A  white  turnip  they  will  not  touch,  unless  they  be  on  the 
point  of  starving.  They  are  the  best  of  triers.  Whatever  they 
prefer  is  sure  to  be  the  richest  thing  within  their  reach.  The 
parsnip  is,  by  many  degrees,  the  richest  root ;  but,  the  seed  lies 
long  in  the  ground  ;  the  sowing  and  after-culture  are  works  of 
great  niceness.  The  crop  is  large  with  good  cultivation  ;  but,  as 
a  main  crop,  I  prefer  the  Ruta  Baga,  of  which  the  crop  is  immense, 

78 


RUTA  BAGA  CULTURE 


and  the  harvesting,  and  preserving,  and  application  of  which, 
are  so  easy. 

153.  The  farm  I  suppose  to  be  in  fair  condition  to  start  with  ; 
the  usual  grass-seeds  sown,  and  so  forth  ;  and  every  farmer  will 
see,  that,  under  my  system,  it  must  soon  become  rich  as  any 
garden  need  to  be,  without  my  sending  men  and  horses  to  the 
water-side  to  fetch  ashes,  which  have  been  brought  from  Boston 
or  Charleston,  an  average  distance  of  seven  hundred  miles  ! 
In  short,  my  stock  would  give  me,  in  one  shape  or  another,  manure 
to  the  amount,  in  utility,  of  more  than  a  thousand  tons  weight  a 
year  of  common  yard  manure.  This  would  be  ten  tons  to  an  acre 
every  year.  The  farm  would,  in  this  way,  become  more  and  more 
productive  ;  and,  as  to  its  being  too  rich,  I  see  no  danger  of  that  • 
for  a  broad-cast  crop  of  wheat  will,  at  any  time,  tame  it  pretty 
sufficiently. 

154.  Very  much,  in  my  opinion,  do  those  mistake  the  matter, 
who  strive  to  get  a  great  breadth  of  land,  with  the  idea,  that,  when 
they  have  tried  one  field,  they  can  let  it  lie,  and  go  to  another. 
It  is  better  to  have  one  acre  of  good  crop,  than  two  of  bad  or 
indifferent.  If  the  one  acre  can  by  double  the  manure  and  double 
the  labour  in  tillage,  be  made  to  produce  as  much  as  two  other 
acres,  the  one  acre  is  preferable,  because  it  requires  only  half  as 
much  fencing,  and  little  more  than  half  as  much  harvesting,  as 
two  acres.  There  is  many  a  ten  acres  of  land  near  London,  that 
produces  more  than  any  common  farm  of  two  hundred  acres. 
My  garden  of  three  quarters  of  an  acre,  produced  more,  in  value, 
last  Summer,  from  June  to  December,  than  any  ten  acres  of  oat 
land  upon  Long  Island,  though  I  there  saw  as  fine  fields  of  oats 
as  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  A  heavy  crop  upon  all  the  ground  that 
I  put  a  plough  into  is  what  I  should  seek,  rather  than  to  have  a 
great  quantity  of  land. 

155.  The  business  of  carting  manure  from  a  distance  can,  in 
very  few,  if  any  cases,  answer  a  profitable  purpose.  If  any  man 
would  give  me  even  horse-dung  at  the  stable-door,  four  miles 
from  my  land,  I  would  not  accept  of  it,  on  condition  of  fetching  it. 
I  say  the  same  of  spent  ashes.  To  manure  a  field  of  ten  acres,  in 
this  way,  a  man  and  two  horses  must  be  employed  twenty  days  at 
least,  with  twenty  days'  wear  and  tear  of  waggon  and  tackle.  Two 
oxen  and  two  men  do  the  business  in  two  days,  if  the  manure  be 
on  the  spot. 

156.  In  concluding  my  remarks  on  the  subject  of  Ruta  Baga, 
I  have  to  apologize  for  the  desultory  manner  in  which  I  have 
treated  the  matter  ;  but,  I  have  put  the  thoughts  down  as  they 
occurred  to  me,  without  much  time  for  arrangement,  wishing 
very  much  to  get  this  first  Part  into  the  hands  of  the  public  before 
the  arrival  of  the  time  for  sowing  Ruta  Baga  this  present  year. 
In  the  succeeding  Parts  of  the  work,  I  propose  to  treat  of  the 
culture  of  every  other  plant  that  I  have  found  to  be  of  use  upon 
a  farm  ;   and  also  to  speak  fully  of  the  sorts  of  cattle,  sheep,  and 

79 


RUTA  BAG  A  CULTURE 


hogs,  particularly  the  latter.  My  experiments  are  now  going  on  ; 
and,  I  shall  only  have  to  communicate  the  result,  which  I  shall  do 
very  faithfully,  and  with  as  much  clearness  as  I  am  able.  In  the 
mean  while,  I  shall  be  glad  to  afford  any  opportunity,  to  any 
persons  who  may  think  it  worth  while  to  come  to  Hyde  Park,  of 
seeing  how  I  proceed.  I  have  just  now  (17th  April)  planted  out 
my  Ruta  Baga,  Cabbages,  Mangel  Wurzel,  Onions,  Parsnips, 
&c,  for  seed.  I  shall  begin  my  earth-burning  in  about  fifteen  days. 
In  short,  being  convinced,  that  I  am  able  to  communicate  very 
valuable  improvements  ;  and  not  knowing  how  short,  or  how 
long,  my  stay  in  America  may  be,  I  wish  very  much  to  leave  behind 
me  whatever  of  good  I  am  able,  in  return  for  the  protection,  which 
America  has  afforded  me  against  the  fangs  of  the  Boroughmongers 
of  England  ;  to  which  country,  however,  I  always  bear  affection, 
which  I  cannot  feel  towards  any  other  in  the  same  degree,  and  the 
prosperity  and  honour  of  which  I  shall,  I  hope,  never  cease  to 
prefer  before  the  gratification  of  all  private  pleasures  and 
emoluments. 


END 

Of  the  Treatise  on  Ruta  Baga, 

AND   OF   PART   I. 


PART  II 


DEDICATION 

TO 

MR.  RICHARD  HINXMAN 

OF   CHILLING    IN   HAMPSHIRE. 


North  Hempstead,  Long  Island, 
15th  Nov.,  1818. 


MY   DEAR  SIR, 


The  following  little  volume  will  give  you  some  account  of  my 
agricultural  proceedings  in  this  fine  and  well-governed  country  ; 
and,  it  will  also  enable  you  to  see  clearly  how  favourable  an 
absence  of  grinding  taxation  and  tithes  is  to  the  farmer.  You 
have  already  paid  to  Fund-holders,  Standing  Armies,  and  Priests 
more  money  than  would  make  a  decent  fortune  for  two  children , 
and,  if  the  present  system  were  to  continue  to  the  end  of  your 
national  life,  you  would  pay  more  to  support  the  idle  and  the 
worthless,  than  would  maintain,  during  the  same  space  of  time, 
ten  labourers  and  their  families.  The  profits  of  your  capital, 
care  and  skill  are  pawned  by  the  Boroughmongers  to  pay  the 
interest  of  a  Debt,  which  they  have  contracted  for  their  own 
purposes  ;  a  Debt,  which  never  can,  by  ages  of  toil  and  of 
sufferings,  on  the  part  of  the  people,  be  either  paid  off  or 
diminished.  But,  I  trust,  that  deliverance  from  this  worse 
than  Eg3/ptian  bondage  is  now  near  at  hand.  The  atrocious 
tyranny  does  but  stagger  along.  At  every  step  it  discovers  fresh 
proofs  of  impotence.  It  must  come  down  ;  and  when  it  is  down, 
we  shall  not  have  to  envy  the  farmers  of  America,  or  of  any 
country  in  the  world. 

When  you  reflect  on  the  blackguard  conduct  of  the  Parsons 
at  Winchester,  on  the  day  when  I  last  had  the  pleasure  to  see  you 
and  our  excellent  friend  Goldsmith,  you  will  rejoice  to  find,  that, 
throughout  the  whole  of  this  extensive  country,  there  exists  not 
one  single  animal  of  that  description  ;  so  that  we  can  here  keep 
as  many  cows,  sows,  ewes  and  hens  as  we  please,  with  the  cer- 
tainty, that  no  prying,  greedy  Parson  will  come  to  eat  up  a  part 
of  the  young  ones.     How  long  shall  we  Englishmen  suffer  our 

83 


DEDICATION 


cow-stalls,  our  styes,  our  folds  and  our  hen-roosts  to  be  the  prey 
of  this  prowling  pest  ? 

In  many  parts  of  the  following  pages  you  will  trace  the  remarks 
and  opinions  back  to  conversations  that  have  passed  between  us, 
many  times  in  Hampshire.  In  the  making  of  them  my  mind 
has  been  brought  back  to  the  feelings  of  those  days.  The  cer- 
tainty, that  I  shall  always  be  beloved  by  you  constitutes  one  of 
the  greatest  pleasures  of  my  life  ;  and  I  am  sure,  that  you  want 
nothing  to  convince  you,  that  I  am  unchangeably, 

Your  faithful  and  affectionate  friend, 

Wm.  cobbett. 


84 


PREFACE    TO    THE   SECOND    PART 

157.  In  the  First  Part  I  adopted  the  mode  of  numbering  the 
paragraphs,  a  mode  which  I  shall  pursue  to  the  end  of  the  work  ; 
and,  as  the  whole  work  may,  at  the  choice  of  the  purchaser,  be 
bound  up  in  one  volume,  or  remain  in  two  volumes,  I  have 
thought  it  best  to  resume  the  numbering  at  the  point  where  I 
stopped  at  the  close  of  the  First  Part.  The  last  paragraph  of 
that  Part  was  156  :  I,  therefore,  now  begin  with  157.  For  the 
same  reason  I  have,  in  the  Second  Part,  resumed  the  paging  at 
the  point  where  I  stopped  in  the  First  Part.  I  left  of!  at  page 
80  ;  and,  I  begin  with  83.  I  have,  in  like  manner,  resumed 
the  chaptering  ;  so  that,  when  the  two  volumes  are  put  together, 
they  will,  as  to  these  matters,  form  but  one  ;  and  those,  who  may 
have  purchased  the  volumes  separately,  will  possess  the  same 
book,  in  all  respects,  as  those,  who  shall  purchase  the  Three  Parts 
in  one  Volume. 

158.  Paragraph  1.  (Part  I.)  contains  my  reasons  for  numbering 
the  paragraphs ,  but,  besides  the  reasons  there  stated,  there  is  one, 
which  did  not  then  occur  to  me,  and  which  was  left  to  be  suggested 
by  experience,  of  a  description  which  I  did  not  then  anticipate  ; 
namely,  that,  in  the  case  of  more  than  one  edition,  the  paging  may,  * 
and  generally  does,  differ  in  such  manner  as  to  bring  the  matter, 
which,  in  one  edition,  is  under  any  given  page,  under  a  different 
page  in  another  edition.  This  renders  the  work  of  reference  very 
laborious  at  best,  and,  in  many  cases,  it  defeats  its  object.  If  the 
paragraphs  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries  had  been  numbered, 
how  much  valuable  time  it  would  have  saved.  I  am  now  about 
to  send  a  second  edition  of  the  First  Part  of  this  work  to  the  press. 

I  am  quite  careless  about  the  paging  ;  that  is  to  say,  so  that  the 
whole  be  comprised  within  the  134  pages,  it  is  of  no  consequence 
whether  the  matter  take,  with  respect  to  the  pages,  precisely  the 
same  situation  that  it  took  before  ;  and,  if  the  paging  were  not 
intended  to  join  on  to  that  of  the  present  volume,  it  would  be  no 
matter  what  were  the  number  of  pages  upon  the  whole.  I  hope, 
that  these  reasons  will  be  sufficient  to  convince  the  reader  that  1 
have  not,  in  this  case,  been  actuated  by  a  love  of  singularity.  We 
live  to  learn,  and  to  make  improvements,  and  every  improvement, 
must,  at  first,  be  a  singularity. 


PREFACE— PARi:  II 


159.  The  utility,  which  I  thought  would  arise  from  the 
hastening  out  of  the  First  Part,  in  June  last,  previous  to  the  time 
for  sowing  Swedish  Turnips,  induced  me  to  make  an  ugly  breach 
in  the  order  of  my  little  work  ;  and,  as  it  generally  happens,  that 
when  disorder  is  once  begun,  it  is  very  difficult  to  restore  order  ; 
so,  in  this  case,  I  have  been  exceedingly  puzzled  to  give  to  the 
matter  of  these  two  last  Parts  such  an  arrangement  as  should  be 
worthy  of  a  work,  which,  whatever  may  be  the  character  of  its 
execution,  treats  of  subjects  of  great  public  interest.  However, 
with  the  help  of  the  Index,  which  I  shall  subjoin  to  the  Third 
Part,  and  which  will  comprise  a  reference  to  the  divers  matters 
in  all  the  three  parts,  and  in  the  making  of  which  Index  an 
additional  proof  of  the  advantage  of  numbering  the  paragraphs 
has  appeared  ;  with  the  help  of  this  Index  the  reader  will,  I 
am  in  hopes,  be  enabled  to  overcome,  without  any  very  great 
trouble,  the  inconveniences  naturally  arising  from  a  want  of  a 
perfectly  good  arrangement  of  the  subjects  of  the  work. 

160.  As  the  First  Part  closes  with  a  promise  to  communicate 
the  result  of  my  experiments  of  this  present  year,  I  begin  the 
Second  Part  with  a  fulfilment  of  that  promise,  particularly  with 
regard  to  the  procuring  of  manure  by  the  burning  of  earth  into  ashes. 

161.  I  then  proceed  with  the  other  matters  named  in  the  title  ; 
and  the  Third  Part  I  shall  make  to  consist  of  an  account  of  the 
Western  Countries,  furnished  in  the  Notes  of  Mr.  Hulme,  to- 
gether with  a  view  of  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  pre- 
ferring, as  a  place  to  farm  in,  those  Countries  to  the  Countries 
bordering  on  the  Atlantic  ;  in  which  view  I  shall  include  such 
remarks  as  appear  to  me  likely  to  be  useful  to  those  English 
Farmers,  who  can  no  longer  bear  the  lash  of  Boroughmongering 
oppression  and  insolence. 

162.  Multifariousness  is  a 'great  fault  in  a  written  work  of  any 
kind.  I  feel  the  consciousness  of  this  fault  upon  this  occasion. 
The  facts  and  opinions  relative  to  Swedish  Turnips  and  Cabbages 
will  be  very  apt  to  be  enfeebled  in  their  effect  by  those  relating 
to  manners,  laws  and  religion.  Matters  so  heterogeneous,  the 
one  class  treated  of  in  the  detail  and  the  other  in  the  great,  ought 
not  to  be  squeezed  together  between  the  boards  of  the  same 
small  volume.  But,  the  fault  is  committed  and  it  is  too  late  to 
repine.  There  are,  however,  two  subjects  which  I  will  treat  of 
distinctly  hereafter.  The  first  is  that  of  Fencing,  a  subject  which 
presses  itself  upon  the  attention  of  the  American  Farmer,  but  from 
which  he  turns  with  feelings  like  those  with  which  a  losing  trades- 
man turns  from  an  examination  of  his  books.  But,  attend  to  it  he 
must  before  it  be  long  ;  or,  his  fields,  in  the  populous  parts  of  this 
Island  at  least,  must  lay  waste,  and  his  fuel  must  be  brought  him 
from  Virginia  or  from  England.  Sometime  before  March  next 
I  shall  publish  an  Essay  on  Fencing.  The  form  shall  correspond 
with  that  of  this  work,  in  order  that  it  may  be  bound  up  with  it, 
if  that  should  be  thought  desirable.     The  other  subject  is  that  of 

86 


PREFACE— PART  II 


Gardening.  This  I  propose  to  treat  of  in  a  small  distinct  volume, 
under  some  appropriate  title  ;  and,  in  this  volume,  to  give  alpha- 
betically, a  description  of  all  the  plants,  cultivated  for  the  use  of 
the  table  and  also  of  those  cultivated  as  cattle  food.  To  this 
description  I  shall  add  an  account  of  their  properties,  and  in- 
structions for  the  cultivation  of  them  in  the  best  manner.  It 
is  not  my  intention  to  go  beyond  what  is  aptly  enough  called  the 
Kitchen  Garden  :  but,  as  a  hot-bed  may  be  of  such  great  use  even 
to  the  farmer  ;  and  as  ample  materials  for  making  beds  of  this 
sort  are  always  at  his  command  without  any  expense,  I  shall 
endeavour  to  give  plain  directions  for  the  making  and  managing 
of  a  hot-bed.  A  bed  of  this  sort,  fifteen  feet  long,  has  given  me, 
this  year,  the  better  part  of  an  acre  of  fine  cabbages  to  give  to  hogs 
in  the  parching  month  of  July.  This  is  so  very  simple  a  matter  ; 
is  so  very  easy  to  learn  ;  that  there  is  scarcely  a  farmer  in 
America,  who  would  not  put  the  thing  in  practice,  at  once,  with 
complete  success. 

163.  Let  not  my  countrymen,  who  may  happen  to  read  this 
suppose,  that  these,  or  any  other,  pursuits  will  withdraw  my 
attention  from,  or  slacken  my  zeal  in,  that  cause,  which  is  common 
to  us  all.  That  cause  claims,  and  has,  my  first  attention  and  best 
exertion  ;  that  is  the  business  of  my  life  :  these  other  pursuits 
are  my  recreation.  King  Alfred  allowed  eight  hours  for 
recreation,  in  the  twenty-four,  eight  for  sleep,  and  eight  for  business. 
I  do  not  take  my  allowance  of  the  two  former. 

164.  Upon  looking  into  the  First  Part,  I  see,  that  I  expressed 
a  hope  to  be  able  to  give,  in  some  part  of  this  work,  a  sketch  of  the 
work  of  Mr.  Tull.  I  have  looked  at  Tull,  and  I  cannot  bring 
my  mind  up  to  the  commission  of  so  horrid  an  act  as  that  of 
garbling  such  a  work.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  feeling,  such  as  that 
which  I  experience  at  this  moment,  which  restrained  Mr. 
Curwen  from  even  naming  Tull,  when  he  gave  one  of  Tull's 
experiments  to  the  world  as  a  discovery  of  his  ovm.  Unable  to 
screw  himself  up  to  commit  a  murder,  he  contented  himself  with 
a  robbery  ;  an  instance,  he  may,  indeed,  say,  of  singular  modera- 
tion and  self-denial  ;  especially  when  we  consider  of  what  an 
assembly  he  has,  with  little  intermission,  been  an  "  Honourable 
Member  "  for  the  last  thirty  years  of  his  life. 


Wm.  cobeett. 


North  Hempstead,  Long  Island, 
15th  November,  1818. 


87 


<A  TSARS  <R§SIDSNCS 

IN  AMERICA 


CHAPTER  III. 

EXPERIMENTS,  IN  1818,  AS  TO  CABBAGES. 

Preliminary  Remarks. 

165.  At  the  time  when  I  was  writing  the  First  Part,  I  expected  to 
be  able  to  devote  more  time  to  my  farming,  during  the  summer, 
than  I  afterwards  found  that  I  could  so  devote  without  neglecting 
matters  which  I  deem  of  greater  importance.  I  was,  indeed, 
obliged  to  leave  the  greater  part  of  my  out-door's  business  wholly 
to  my  men,  merely  telling  them  what  to  do.  However,  I  attended 
to  the  things  which  I  thought  to  be  of  the  most  importance.  The 
field-culture  of  Carrots,  Parsnips  and  Mangle  Wurzel  I  did  not 
attempt.  I  contented  myself  with  a  crop  of  Cabbages  and  of 
Ruta  Baga  and  with  experiments  as  to  Earth-burning  and  Trans- 
planting Indian  Corn.  The  summer,  and  the  fall  also,  have  been 
remarkably  dry  in  Long  Island,  much  more  dry  than  is  usual. 
The  grass  has  been  very  short  indeed.  A  sort  of  Grass-hopper, 
or  Cricket,  has  eaten  up  a  considerable  part  of  the  grass  and  of  all 
vegetables,  the  leaves  of  which  have  come  since  the  month  of 
June.     I  am  glad,  that  this  has  been  the  case  ;   for  I  now  know 


CABBAGES 

what  a  farmer  may  do  in  the  zvorst  of  years  :  and,  when  I  consider 
what  the  summer  has  been,  I  look  at  my  Cabbages  and  Ruta  Baga 
with  surprize  as  well  as  with  satisfaction. 


Cabbages. 

i 66.  I  had  some  hogs  to  keep,  and,  as  my  Swedish  Turnips 
(Ruta  Baga)  would  be  gone  by  July,  or  before,  I  wished  thern  to  be 
succeeded  by  cabbages.  I  made  a  hot-bed  on  the  zoth  of  March, 
which  ought  to  have  been  made  more  than  a  month  earlier  ;  but 
I  had  been  in  Pennsylvania,  and  did  not  return  home  till  the  13^/2 
of  March.  It  requires  a  little  time  to  mix  and  turn  the  dung  in 
order  to  prepare  it  for  a  hot-bed  ;  so  that  mine  was  not  a  very  good 
one  ;  and  then  my  frame  was  hastily  patched  up,  and  its  covering 
consisted  of  some  old  broken  sashes  of  windows.  A  very  shabby 
concern  ;  but,  in  this  bed  I  sowed  cabbages  and  cauliflowers. 
The  seed  came  up,  and  the  plants,  though  standing  too  thick, 
grew  pretty  well.  From  this  bed,  they  would,  if  I  had  had  time, 
been  transplanted  into  another,  at  about  two  and  a  half  or  three 
inches  apart.  But,  such  as  they  were,  very  much  drawn  up,  I 
began  planting  them  out  as  soon  as  they  were  about  four  inches 
high. 

167.  It  was  the  12th  of  May  before  they  attained  this  height, 
and  I  then  began  planting  them  out  in  a  piece  of  ground,  pretty 
good,  and  deeply  ploughed  by  oxen.  My  cauliflowers,  of  which 
there  were  about  three  thousand,  were  too  late  to  flower,  which 
they  never  will  do,  unless  the  flower  have  begun  to  shew  itself 
before  the  great  heat  comes.  However,  these  plants  grew  very 
large,  and  afforded  a  great  quantity  of  food  for  pigs.  The  outside 
leaves  and  stems  were  eaten  by  sows,  store-pigs,  a  cow,  and  some 
oxen  ;  the  hearts,  wThich  were  very  tender  and  nearly  of  the 
Cauliflower-taste,  were  boiled  in  a  large  cast-iron  caldron,  and, 
mixed  with  a  little  rye-meal,  given  to  sows  and  young  pigs.  I 
should  suppose,  that  these  three  thousand  plants  weighed  twelve 
hundred  pounds,  and  they  stood  upon  about  half  an  acre  of  land. 
I  gave  these  to  the  animals  early  in  July. 

168.  The  Cabbages,  sown  in  the  bed,  consisted  partly  of  Early 
Yorks,  the  seed  of  which  had  been  sent  me  along  with  the  Cauli- 
flower seed,  from  England,  and  had  reached  me  at  Harrisburgh 
in  Pennsylvania  ;  and  partly  of  plants,  the  seed  of  which  had  been 
given  me  by  Mr.  James  Paul,  Senior,  of  Bustleton,  as  I  was  on 
my  return  home.  And  this  gave  me  a  pretty  good  opportunity 
of  ascertaining  the  fact  as  to  the  degenerating  of  cabbage  seed.  Mr. 
Paul  who  attended  very  minutely  to  all  such  matters  ;  who  took 
great  delight  in  his  garden  ;  who  was  a  reading  as  well  as  a  prac- 
tical farmer,  told  me,  when  he  gave  me  the  seed,  that  it  would  not 

90 


CABBAGES 

produce  loaved  cabbages  so  early  as  my  own  seed  would  ;  for, 
that,  though  he  had  always  selected  the  earliest  heads  for  seed, 
the  seed  degenerated,  and  the  cabbages  regularly  came  to  per- 
fection later  and  later.  He  said,  that  he  never  should  save 
cabbage  seed  himself ;  but,  that  it  was  such  chance-work  to  buy 
of  seedsmen,  that  he  thought  it  best  to  save  some  at  any  rate. 
In  this  case,  all  the  plants  from  the  English  seed  produced  solid 
loaves  by  the  24th  of  June,  while,  from  the  plants  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania seed,  we  had  not  a  single  solid  loaf  till  the  28th  of  July,  and, 
from  the  chief  part  of  them,  not  till  mid-August. 

169.  This  is  a  great  matter.  Not  only  have  you  the  food  earlier, 
and  so  much  earlier,  from  the  genuine  seed,  but  your  ground  is 
occupied  so  much  less  time  by  the  plants.  The  plants  very  soon 
shewed,  by  their  appearance,  what  would  be  the  result  ;  for,  on 
the  2nd  of  June,  Miss  Sarah  Paul,  a  daughter  of  Mr.  James  Paul, 
saw  the  plants,  and  while  those  from  the  English  seed  were  even 
then  beginning  to  loave,  those  from  her  father's  seed  were  nothing 
more  than  bunches  of  wide  spreading  leaves,  having  no  ap- 
pearance of  forming  a  head.  However,  they  succeeded  the 
plants  from  the  English  seed  ;  and,  the  whole,  besides  what  were 
used  in  the  House,  were  given  to  the  animals.  As  many  of  the 
white  loaves  as  were  wanted  for  the  purpose  were  boiled  for  sows 
and  small  pigs,  and  the  rest  were  given  to  lean  pigs  and  the  horn- 
cattle  :  and  a  fine  resource  they  were  ;  for,  so  dry  was  the  weather, 
and  the  devastations  of  the  grass-hoppers  so  great,  that  we  had 
scarcely  any  grass  in  any  part  of  the  land  ;  and,  if  I  had  not  had 
these  cabbages,  I  must  have  resorted  to  Indian  Corn,  or  Grain 
of  some  sort. 

170.  But,  these  spring-cabbage  plants  were  to  be  succeeded 
by  others,  to  be  eaten  in  September  and  onwards  to  January. 
Therefore,  on  the  27th  of  May,  I  sowed  in  the  natural  ground 
eleven  sorts  of  cabbages,  some  of  the  seed  from  England  and  some 
got  from  my  friend,  Mr.  Paul.  I  have  noticed  the  extreme 
drought  of  the  season.  Nevertheless,  I  have  now  about  two  acres 
of  cabbages  of  the  following  description.  Half  an  acre  of  the 
Early  Salisbury  (earliest  of  all  cabbages)  and  Early  York  :  about 
3  quarters  of  an  acre  of  the  Drum-head  and  other  late  cabbages  ; 
and  about  the  same  quantity  of  Green  Savoys.  The  first  class 
are  fully  loaved,  and  bursting  :  with  these  I  now  feed  my  animals. 
These  will  be  finished  by  the  time  that  I  cut  off  my  Swedish 
Turnip  Greens,  as  mentioned  in  Part  I.  Paragraph  136.  Then, 
about  mid-December,  I  shall  feed  with  the  second  class,  the 
Drum-heads  and  other  late  Cabbages.  Then,  those  which  are 
not  used  before  the  hard  frosts  set  in,  I  shall  put  up  for  use  through 
the  month  of  January. 

171.  Aye!  Put  them  up:  but  how?  No  scheme  that  industry 
or  necessity  ever  sought  after,  or  that  experience  ever  suggested, 
with  regard  to  the  preserving  of  cabbages,  did  I  leave  untried  last 
year  ;  and,  in  every  scheme  but  one  I  found  some  inconvenience. 

9* 


CABBAGES 

Taking  them  up  and  replanting  them  closely  in  a  sloping  manner 
and  covering  them  with  straw  ;  putting  them  in  pits  ;  hanging 
them  up  in  a  barn  ;  turning  their  heads  downwards  and  covering 
them  with  earth,  leaving  the  roots  sticking  up  in  the  air  :  in  short 
every  scheme,  except  one,  was  attended  with  great  labour,  and 
some  of  them  forbade  the  hope  of  being  able  to  preserve  any 
considerable  quantity  ;  and  this  one  was  as  follows  :  I  made  a 
sort  of  land  with  the  plough,  and  made  it  pretty  level  at  top. 
Upon  this  land  I  laid  some  straw.  I  then  took  the  cabbages, 
turned  them  upside  down,  and  placed  them  (first  taking  off  all 
decayed  leaves)  about  six  abreast  upon  the  straw.  Then  covered 
them,  not  very  thickly,  with  leaves  raked  up  in  the  woods,  flinging 
now  and  then  a  little  dirt  (boughs  of  any  sort  would  be  better)  to 
prevent  the  leaves  from  being  carried  off  by  the  wind.  So  that, 
when  the  work  was  done,  the  thing  was  a  bed  of  leaves  with 
cabbage-roots  sticking  up  through  it.  I  only  put  on  enough 
leaves  to  hide  all  the  green.  If  the  frost  came  and  prevented  the 
taking  up  of  the  cabbages,  roots  and  all,  they  might  be  cut  off 
close  to  the  ground.  The  root,  I  dare  say,  is  of  no  use  in  the 
preservation.  In  the  months  of  April  and  May,  I  took  cabbages 
of  all  sorts  from  this  land  perfectly  good  and  fresh.  The  quantity, 
preserved  thus,  was  small.  It  might  amount  to  200  cabbages. 
But,  it  was  quite  sufficient  for  the  purpose.  Not  only  did  the 
cabbages  keep  better  in  this,  than  in  any  other  way,  but  there  they 
were,  at  all  times,  ready.  The  frost  had  locked  up  all  those  which 
were  covered  with  earth,  and  those  which  lay  with  heads  upwards 
and  their  roots  in  the  ground  zvere  rotting.  But,  to  this  land  I 
could  have  gone  at  any  time,  and  have  brought  away,  if  the 
quantity  had  been  large,  a  waggon  load  in  ten  minutes.  If  they 
had  been  covered  with  snow  (no  matter  how  deep)  by  uncovering 
twenty  feet  in  length  (a  work  of  little  labour)  half  a  ton  of  cabbages 
would  have  been  got  at.  This  year,  thinking  that  my  Savoys, 
which  are,  at  once,  the  best  in  quality  and  best  to  keep,  of  all 
winter  cabbages,  may  be  of  use  to  send  to  New  York,  I  have 
planted  them  between  rows  of  Broom-Corn.  The  Broom-Corn 
is  in  rows,  eight  feet  apart.  This  enabled  us  to  plough  deep 
between  the  Broom-Corn,  which,  though  in  poor  land,  has  been 
very  fine.  The  heads  are  cut  off  ;  and  now  the  stalks  remain  to 
be  used  as  follows  :  I  shall  make  lands  up  the  piece,  cut  off  the 
stalks  and  lay  them,  first  a  layer  longways  and  then  a  layer  cross- 
ways,  upon  the  lands.  Upon  these  I  shall  put  my  Savoys  turned 
upside  down  ;  and,  as  the  stalks  will  be  more  than  sufficient  for 
this  purpose,  I  shall  lay  some  of  them  over,  instead  of  dirt  or 
boughs,  as  mentioned  before.  Perhaps  the  leaves  of  the  Broom- 
Corn,  which  are  lying  about  in  great  quantities,  may  suffice  for 
covering.  And,  thus,  all  the  materials  for  the  work  are  upon  the 
spot. 

172.  In  quitting  this  matter,  I  may  observe,  that,  to  cover 
cabbages  thus,  in  gardens  as  well  as  fields,  would,  in  many  cases, 

92 


CABBAGES 

be  of  great  use  in  England,  and  of  still  more  use  in  Scotland. 
Sometimes,  a  quick  succession  of  frost,  snow  and  thaw  will 
completely  rot  every  loaved  cabbage  even  in  the  South  of  England. 
Indeed  no  reliance  is  placed  upon  cabbages  for  use,  as  cattle-food, 
later  than  the  month  of  December,  The  bulk  is  so  large  that  a 
protection  by  houses  of  any  sort  cannot  be  thought  of.  Besides, 
the  cabbages,  put  together  in  large  masses  would  heat  and  quickly 
rot.  In  gentlemen'' s  gardens,  indeed,  cabbages  are  put  into  houses, 
where  they  are  hung  up  by  the  heads.  But,  they  wither  in  this 
state,  or  they  soon  putrefy  even  here.  By  adopting  the  mode  of 
preserving,  which  I  have  described  above,  all  these  inconveniences 
would  be  avoided.  Any  quantity  might  be  preserved  either  in 
fields  or  in  gardens  at  a  very  trifling  expence,  compared  with  the 
bulk  of  the  crop. 

173.  As  to  the  application  of  my  Savoys,  and  part  of  the  Drum- 
heads, too,  indeed,  if  I  find  cabbages  very  dear,  at  New  York, 
in  winter,  I  shall  send  them  ;  if  not,  there  they  are  for  my  cattle 
and  pigs.  The  weight  of  them  will  not  be  less,  I  should  think, 
than  ten  tons.  The  plants  were  put  out  by  two  men  in  one  day  : 
and  I  shall  think  it  very  hard  if  two  men  do  not  put  the  whole 
completely  up  in  a  week.  The  Savoys  are  very  fine.  A  little  too 
late  planted  out  ;  but  still  very  fine  ;  and  they  were  planted  out 
under  a  burning  sun  and  without  a  drop  of  rain  for  weeks  after- 
wards. So  far  from  taking  any  particular  pains  about  these 
Savoys,  I  did  not  see  them  planted,  and  I  never  saw  them  for 
more  than  two  months  after  they  were  planted.  The  ground  for 
them  was  prepared  thus  :  the  ground,  in  each  interval  between 
the  Broom-Corn,  had  been,  some  little  time  before,  ploughed  to 
the  rows.  This  left  a  deep  furrow  in  the  middle  of  the  interval. 
Into  this  furrow  I  put  the  manure.  It  was  a  mixture  of  good 
mould  and  dung  from  pig-styes.  The  waggon  went  up  the 
interval,  and  the  manure  was  drawn  out  and  tumbled  into  the 
furrow.  Then  the  plough  went  twice  on  each  side  of  the  furrow, 
and  turned  the  earth  over  the  manure.  This  made  a  ridge,  and 
upon  this  ridge  the  plants  were  planted  as  quickly  after  the  plough 
as  possible. 

174.  Now,  then,  what  is  the  trouble  :  what  is  the  expence,  of 
all  this  ?  The  seed  was  excellent.  I  do  not  recollect  ever  having 
seen  so  large  a  piece  of  the  cabbage  kind  with  so  few  spurious 
plants.  But,  though  good  cabbage  seed  is  of  high  price,  I  should 
suppose,  that  the  seed  did  not  cost  me  a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  Sup- 
pose, however,  it  had  cost  ten  quarters  of  a  dollar  :  what  would 
that  have  been,  compared  to  the  worth  of  the  crop  ?  For,  what 
is  the  worth  of  ten  tons  of  green,  or  moist  food,  in  the  month  of 
March  or  April  ? 

175.  The  Swedish  Turnip  is,  indeed,  still  more  conveniently 
preserved,  and  is  a  richer  food  ;  but,  there  are  some  reasons  for 
making  part  of  the  year's  provision  to  consist  of  cabbages.  As  far 
as  a  thing  may  depend  on  chance,  two  chances  are  better  than  one. 

H  93 


CABBAGES 

In  the  summer  and  fall,  cabbages  get  ripe,  and,  as  I  have  observed, 
in  Part  I.  Paragraph  143,  the  Ruta  Baga  (which  we  will  call 
Swedish  Turnip  for  the  future)  is  not  so  good  'till  it  be  ripe  :  and 
is  a  great  deal  better  when  kept  'till  February,  than  when  used  in 
December.  This  matter  of  ripeness  is  worthy  of  attention.  Let 
any  one  eat  a  piece  of  white  cabbage  :  and  then  eat  a  piece  of  the 
same  sort  of  cabbage  young  and  green.  The  first  he  will  find  sweet, 
the  latter  bitter.  It  is  the  same  with  Turnips,  and  with  all  roots. 
There  are  some  apples,  wholly  uneatable  'till  kept  a  zvhile,  and  then 
delicious.  This  is  the  case  with  the  Swedish  Turnip.  Hogs 
will,  indeed,  always  eat  it,  young  or  old  ;  but,  it  is  not  nearly  so 
good  early,  as  it  is  when  kept  'till  February.  However,  in  default 
of  other  things,  I  would  feed  with  it  even  in  November. 

176.  For  these  reasons  I  would  have  my  due  proportion  of 
cabbages,  and  I  would  always,  if  possible,  have  some  Green 
Savoys  ;  for,  it  is,  with  cabbages,  too,  not  only  quantity  which  we 
ought  to  think  of.  The  Drum-head,  and  some  others,  are  called 
cattle-cabbage  :  and  hence,  in  England,  there  is  an  idea,  that  the 
more  delicate  kinds  of  cabbage  are  not  so  good  for  cattle.  But,  the 
fact  is,  that  they  are  as  much  better  for  cattle,  than  the  coarse 
cabbages  are,  as  they  are  better  for  us.  It  would  be  strange 
indeed,  that,  reversing  the  principle  of  our  general  conduct,  we 
should  give  cabbage  of  the  best  quality  to  cattle,  and  keep  that  of 
the  worst  quality  for  ourselves.  In  London,  where  taxation  has 
kept  the  streets  as  clear  of  bits  of  meat  left  on  bones  as  the  hogs 
endeavour  to  keep  the  streets  of  New  York,  there  are  people  who 
go  about  selling  "  dog's  meat."  This  consists  of  boiled  garbage. 
But,  it  is  not  pretended,  I  suppose,  that  dogs  will  not  eat  roast- 
beef  ;  nor,  is  it,  I  suppose,  imagined,  that  they  would  not  prefer 
the  roast-beef,  if  they  had  their  choice  ?  Some  people  pretend, 
that  garbage  and  carrion  are  better  for  dogs  than  beef  and  mutton 
are.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  better  for  us,  that  they  should  live  upon 
things,  which  we  ourselves  loath,  than  that  they  should  share  with 
us.     Self-interest  is,  but  too  frequently,  a  miserable  logician. 

177.  However,  with  regard  to  cattle,  sheep,  and  pigs,  as  we 
intend  to  eat  them,  their  claim  to  our  kindness  is  generally  more 
particularly  and  impartially  listened  to  than  that  of  the  poor  dogs  ; 
though  that  of  the  latter,  founded,  as  it  is  on  their  sagacity,  their 
fidelity,  their  real  utility,  as  the  guardians  of  our  folds,  our  home- 
steads and  our  houses,  and  as  the  companions,  or,  rather,  the 
givers,  of  our  healthful  sports,  is  ten  thousand  times  more  strong, 
than  that  of  animals  which  live  to  eat,  sleep,  and  grow  fat.  But, 
to  return  to  the  cabbages,  the  fact  is,  that  all  sorts  of  animals, 
which  will  eat  them  at  all,  like  the  most  delicate  kinds  best  ;  and, 
as  some  of  these  are  also  the  earliest  kinds,  they  ought  to  be 
cultivated  for  cattle.  Some  of  the  larger  kinds  may  be  cultivated, 
too  :  but,  they  cannot  be  got  ripe  till  the  fall  of  the  year.  Nor 
is  the  difference  in  the  weight  of  the  crop  so  great  as  may  be 
imagined.  On  the  same  land,  that  will  bear  a  Drum-head  of 
twenty  pounds,  an  Early  York,  or  Early  Battersea  will  weigh  four 

94 


CABBAGES 


pounds  :  and  these  may  be  fifteen  inches  asunder  in  the  row,  while 
the  Drum-head  requires  four  feet.  Mind,  I  always  suppose  the 
rovjs  to  he  four  feet  apart,  as  stated  in  the  First  Part  of  this  work 
and  for  the  reasons  there  stated.  Besides  the  advantages  cf  having 
some  cabbages  early,  the  early  ones  remain  so  little  a  time  upon 
the  ground.  Transplanted  Swedish  Turnips,  or  Buckwheat,  or 
late  Cabbages,  especially  Savoys,  may  always  follow  them  the 
same  year  upon  the  same  land.  My  early  cabbages,  this  year, 
have  been  followed  by  a  second  crop  of  the  same,  and  now  (mid- 
November)  they  are  hard  and  white  and  we  are  giving  them  to  the 
animals. 

178.  There  is  a  convenience  attending  cabbages,  which  attends 
no  other  of  the  cattle-plants,  namely,  that  of  raising  the  plants 
with  very  little  trouble  and  upon  a  small  bit  of  ground.  A  little 
bed  will  give  plants  for  an  acre  or  two.  The  expence  of  seed,  even 
of  the  dearest  kinds,  is  a  mere  trifle,  not  worth  any  man's  notice. 

179.  For  these  reasons  I  adhere  to  cabbages  as  the  companion 
crop  of  Swedish  Turnips.  The  Mangel  Wurzel  is  long  in  the 
ground.  In  seasons  of  great  drought,  it  comes  up  unevenly. 
The  weeds  get  the  start  of  it.  Its  tillage  must  begin  before  it 
hardly  shews  itself.  It  is  of  the  nature  of  the  Beet,  and  it  requires 
the  care  which  the  Beet  requires.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
Carrots  and  Parsnips.  The  cabbage,  until  it  be  fit  to  plant  out, 
occupies  hardly  any  ground.  An  hour's  work  cleans  the  bed  of 
weeds  ;  and  there  the  plants  are  always  ready  when  the  land  is 
made  ready.  The  Mangel  Wurzel  root,  if  quite  ripe,  is  richer 
than  a  white  loaved  cabbage  ;  but,  it  is  not  more  easily  preserved, 
and  will  not  produce  a  larger  crop.  Cattle  will  eat  the  leaves, 
but  hogs  will  not,  when  they  can  get  the  leaves  of  cabbages. 
Nevertheless,  some  of  this  root  may  be  cultivated.  It  will  fat 
an  ox  well  ;  and  it  will  fat  sheep  well.  Hogs  will  do  well  on  it  in 
winter.  I  would,  if  I  were  a  settled  farmer,  have  some  of  it  ;  but, 
it  is  not  a  thing  upon  which  I  would  place  my  dependence. 

180.  As  to  the  time  of  sowing  cabbages,  the  first  sowing  should 
be  in  a  hot-bed,  so  as  to  have  plants  a  month  old  when  the  frost 
leaves  the  ground.  The  second  sowing  should  be  when  the  natural 
ground  has  become  warm  enough  to  make  the  weeds  begin  to  come  up 
freely.     But,  seed-beds  of  cabbages,  and,  indeed,  of  every  thing, 

should  be  in  the  open  ;  not  under  a  fence,  whatever  may  be  the 
aspect.  The  plants  are  sure  to  be  weak,  if  sov/n  in  such  situations. 
They  should  have  the  air  coming  freely  to  them  in  every  direction. 
In  a  hot-bed,  the  seed  should  be  sown  in  rows,  three  inches  apart, 
and  the  plants  might  be  thinned  out  to  one  in  a  quarter  of  an  inch. 
This  would  give  about  ten  thousand  plants  in  a  bed  ten  feet  long, 
and  five  wide.  They  will  stand  thus  to  get  to  a  tolerable  size 
without  injuring  each  other,  if  the  bed  be  well  managed  as  to  heat 
and  air.  In  the  open  ground,  where  room  is  plenty,  the  rows 
may  be  a  foot  apart,  and  the  plants  two  inches  apart  in  the  rows. 
This  will  allow  of  hoeing,  and  here  the  plants  will  grow  very  finely. 

95 


CABBAGES 


Mind,  a  large  cabbage^plant,  as  well  as  a  large  turnip  plant,  is 
better  than  a  small  one.  All  will  grow,  if  well  planted  ;  but  the 
large  plant  will  grow  best,  and  will,  in  the  end,  be  the  finest  cabbage. 

181.  We  have  a  way,  in  England,  of  greatly  improving  the 
plants  ;  but,  I  am  almost  afraid  to  mention  it,  lest  the  American 
reader  should  be  frightened  at  the  bare  thought  of  the  trouble. 
When  the  plants,  in  the  seed-bed,  have  got  leaves  about  an  inch 
broad,  we  take  them  up,  and  transplant  them  in  fresh  ground, 
at  about  four  inches  apart  each  way.  Here  they  get  stout  and 
straight  :  and,  in  about  three  weeks  time,  we  transplant  them 
again  into  the  ground  where  they  are  to  come  to  perfection. 
This  is  called  pricking  out.  When  the  plant  is  removed  the  second 
time,  it  is  found  to  be  furnished  with  new  roots,  which  have  shot 
out  of  the  butts  of  the  long  tap,  or  forked  roots,  which  proceeded 
from  the  seed.  It,  therefore,  takes  again  more  readily  to  the 
ground,  and  has  some  earth  adhere  to  it  in  its  passage.  One 
hundred  of  pricked-out  plants  are  always  looked  upon  as  worth 
three  hundred  from  the  seed-bed.  In  short,  no  man,  in  England, 
unless  he  be  extremely  negligent,  ever  plants  out  from  the  seed- 
bed. Let  any  farmer  try  this  method  with  only  a  score  of  plants. 
He  may  do  it  with  three  minutes'  labour.  Surely,  he  may  spare 
three  minutes,  and  I  will  engage,  that,  if  he  treat  these  plants 
afterwards  as  he  does  the  rest,  and,  if  all  be  treated  well,  and  the 
crop  a.  fair  one,  the  three  minutes  will  give  him  fifty  pounds  weight 
of  any  of  the  larger  sorts  of  cabbages.  Plants  are  thus  raised,  then 
taken  up  and  tied  neatly  in  bundles,  and  then  brought  out  of 
Dorsetshire  and  Wiltshire,  and  sold  in  Hampshire  for  three-pence 
(about  six  cents)  a  hundred.  So  that  it  cannot  require  the  heart 
of  a  lion  to  encounter  the  labour  attending  the  raising  of  a  few 
thousands  of  plants. 

182.  However,  my  plants,  this  year,  have  all  gene  into  the  field 
from  the  seed-bed  ;  and,  in  so  fine  a  climate,  it  may  do  very  well  ; 
only  great  care  is  necessary  to  be  taken  to  see  that  they  be  not  too 
thick  in  the  seed-bed. 

183.  As  to  the  preparation  of  the  land,  as  to  the  manuring,  as 
to  the  distance  of  the  rows  from  each  other,  as  to  the  act  of  planting, 
and  as  to  the  after  culture,  all  are  the  same  as  in  the  case  of  trans- 
planted Swedish  Turnips  ;  and,  therefore,  as  to  these  matters, 
the  reader  has  seen  enough  in  Part  I.  There  is  one  observation 
to  make,  as  to  the  depth  to  which  the  plant  should  be  put  into  the 
ground.  It  should  be  placed  so  deep,  that  the  stems  of  the  out- 
side leaves  be  just  clear  of  the  ground  :  for,  if  you  put  the  plant 
deeper,  the  rain  will  wash  the  loose  earth  in  amongst  the  stems  of 
the  leaves,  which  will  make  an  open  poor  cabbage  ;  and;  if  the 
plant  be  placed  so  low  as  for  the  heart  to  be  covered  with  dirt,  the 
plant,  though  it  will  live,  will  come  to  nothing.  Great  care  must, 
therefore,  be  taken  as  to  this  matter.  If  the  stems  of  the  plants 
he  long,  roots  will  burst  out  nearly  all  the  way  up  to  the  surface 
■of  the  earth. 

96 


CABBAGES 


184.  The  distances  at  which  cabbages  ought*  to**  stand  in  the 
rows  must  depend  on  the  sorts.  The  following  is  nearly  about 
the  mark.  Early  Salisbury  a  foot  :  Early  York  fifteen  inches  : 
Early  Battersea  twenty  inches  :  Sugar  Loaf  two  feet  ;  Savoys 
two  feet  and  a  half  ;  and  the  Drum-head,  Thousand-headed, 
Large  Hollow,  Ox  cabbage,  all  four  feet. 

185.  With  regard  to  the  time  of  sewing  some  more  ought  to 
said  ;  for,  we  are  not  here,  as  in  England,  confined  within  four 
or  five  degrees  of  latitude.  Here  some  of  us  are  living  in  fine, 
warm  weather,  while  others  of  us  are  living  amidst  snows.  It 
will  be  better,  therefore,  in  giving  opinions  about  times,  to  speak 
of  seasons,  and  not  of  months  and  days.  The  country  people, 
in  England,  go,  to  this  day,  many  of  them,  at  least,  by  the  tides  : 
and,  what  is  supremely  ridiculous,  they  go,  in  some  cases,  by  the 
moveable  tides.  My  gardener,  at  Botley,  very  reluctantly  obeyed 
me,  one  year,  in  sowing  green  Kale  when  I  ordered  him  to  do  it, 
because  Whitsuntide  was  not  come,  and  that,  he  said,  was  the 
proper  season.  "  But,"  said  I,  "  Robinson,  Whitsuntide  comes 
"  later  this  year  than  it  did  last  year."  "  Later,  Sir,"  said  he, 
"  how  can  that  be  ?  "  "  Because,"  said  I,  "  it  depends  upon  the 
"  moon  when  Whitsuntide  shall  come."  "  The  moon  !  "  said 
he  :  "  what  sense  can  there  be  in  that  ?  "  "  Nay,"  said  I,  "  I 
"  am  sure  I  cannot  tell.  That  is  a  matter  far  beyond  my  learning. 
"  Go  and  ask  Mr.  Baker,  the  Parson,  He  ought  to  be  able  to  tell 
"  us  ;  for  he  has  a  tenth  part  of  our  garden  stuff  and  fruit."  The 
Quakers  here  cast  all  this  rubbish  away  ;  and,  one  wonders  how 
it  can  possibly  be  still  cherished  by  any  portion  of  an  enlightened 
people.  But,  the  truth  is,  that  men  do  not  think  for  themselves 
about  these  matters.  Each  succeeding  generation  tread  in  the 
steps  of  their  fathers,  whom  they  loved,  honoured  and  obeyed. 
They  take  all  upon  trust  ;  gladly  save  themselves  the  trouble 
of  thinking  about  things  of  not  immediate  interest.  A  desire 
to  avoid  the  reproach  of  being  irreligious  induces  them  to  practise 
an  outward  conformity.  And  thus  have  priest-craft  with  all  its 
frauds,  extortions,  and  immoralities,  lived  and  flourished  in 
defiance  of  reason  and  of  nature. 

186.  However,  as  there  are  no  farmers  in  America  quite  foolish 
enough  to  be  ruled  by  the  tides  in  sowing  and  reaping,  I  hurry 
back  from  this  degression  to  say,  that  I  cannot  be  expected  to 
speak  of  precise  times  for  doing  any  work,  except  as  relates  to  the 
latitude  in  which  I  live,  and  in  which  my  experiments  have  been 
made.  I  have  cultivated  a  garden  at  Frederickton  in  the  Province 
of  New  Brunszvick,  which  is  in  latitude  about  forty-eight  :  and  at 
Wilmington  in  Delaware  State,  which  is  in  latitude  about  thirty- 
nine.  In  both  these  places  I  had  as  fine  cabbages,  turnips,  and 
garden  things  of  all  the  hardy  sorts,  as  any  man  need  wish  to  see. 
Indian  Corn  grew  and  ripened  well  in  fields  at  Frederickton. 
And,  of  course,  the  summer  was  sufficient  for  the  perfecting  of  all 
plants  for  cattle-food.     And,  how  necessary  is  this  food  in  Northern 

97 


CABBAGES 


Climates  !  More  to  the  Southward  than  Delaware  State  I  have 
not  been  ;  but,  in  those  countries  the  farmers  have  to  pick  and 
choose.  They  have  two  Long  Island  summers  and  falls,  and 
three  English,  in  every  year. 

187.  According  to  these  various  circumstances  men  must  form 
their  judgment  ;  but,  it  may  be  of  some  use  to  state  the  length 
of  lime,  which  is  required  to  bring  each  sort  of  cabbage  to  per- 
fection. The  following  sorts  are,  it  appears  to  me,  all  that  can, 
in  any  case,  be  necessary.  I  have  put  against  each  nearly  the  time, 
that  it  will  require  to  bring  it  to  perfection,  from  the  time  of 
planting  out  in  the  places  where  the  plants  are  to  stand  to  come 
to  perfection.  The  plants  are  supposed  to  be  of  a  good  size  when 
put  out,  to  have  stood  sufficiently  thin  in  the  seed-bed,  and  to 
have  been  kept  clear  from  weeds  in  that  bed.  They  are  also 
supposed  to  go  into  ground  well  prepared. 


Early  Salisbury 
Early  York 
Early  Battersea 
Sugar  Loaf     . 
Late  Battersea 
Red  Kentish  . 
Drum-head    . 
Thousand-headed 
Large  hollow 
Ox  cabbage    . 
Savoy 


Six  weeks. 
Eight  weeks. 
Ten  weeks. 
Eleven  weeks. 
Sixteen  weeks. 
Sixteen  weeks. 


Five  months. 


188.  It  should  be  observed,  that  Savoys,  which  are  so  very  rich 
in  winter,  are  not  so  good,  till  they  have  been  pinched  by  frost. 
I  have  put  red  cabbage  down  as  a  sort  to  be  cultivated,  because 
they  are  as  good  as  the  white  of  the  same  size,  and  because  it 
may  be  convenient,  in  the  farmer's  family,  to  have  some  of  them. 
The  thousand-headed  is  of  prodigious  produce.  You  pull  off  the 
heads,  of  which  it  bears  a  great  number  at  first,  and  others  come  ; 
and  so  on  for  months,  if  the  weather  permit  ;  so  that  this  sort  does 
not  take  five  months  to  bring  its  first  heads  to  perfection.  When 
I  say  perfection,  I  mean  quite  hard  :  quite  ripe.  However,  this 
is  a  coarse  cabbage,  -and  requires  great  room.  The  Ox-cabbage 
is  coarser  than  the  Drum-head.  The  Large  hollow  is  a  very  fine 
cabbage  ;  but  it  requires  very  good  land.  Some  of  all  the  sorts 
would  be  best ;  but,  I  hope,  I  have  now  given  information  enough 
to  enable  any  one  to  form  a  judgment  correct  enough  to  begin 
with.  Experience  will  be  the  best  guide  for  the  future.  An 
ounce  of  each  sort  of  seed  would  perhaps,  be  enough  ;  and  the 
cost  is,  when  compared  with  the  object,  too  trifling  to  be  thought 
of. 

189.  Notwithstanding  all  that  I  have  said,  or  can  say,  upon  the 
subject  of  cabbages,  I  am  very  well  aware,  that  the  extension  of  the 

98 


CABBAGES 


cultivation  of  them,  in  America,  will  be  a  work  of  time.  A  pro- 
position to  do  any  thing  new,  in  so  common  a  calling  as  agriculture, 
is  looked  at  with  suspicion  ;  and,  by  some,  with  feelings  not  of  the 
kindest  description  ;  because  it  seems  to  imply  an  imputation  of 
ignorance  in  those  to  whom  the  proposition  is  made.  A  little 
reflection  will,  however,  suppress  this  feeling  in  men  of  sense  ; 
and,  those  who  still  entertain  it  may  console  themselves  with  the 
assurance,  that  no  one  will  desire  to  compel  them  to  have  stores  of 
green,  or  moist,  cattle-food  in  winter.  To  be  ashamed  to  be 
taught  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  human  follies  ;  but,  I  must  say, 
that  it  is  a  folly  less  prevalent  in  America  than  in  any  other  country 
with  which  I  am  acquainted. 

190.  Besides  the  disposition  to  reject  novelties,  this  proposition 
of  mine  has  books  to  contend  against.  I  read,  last  fall,  in  an 
American  Edition  of  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  "  greatly 
enlarged  and  improved,"  some  observations  on  the  culture  of 
cabbages  as  cattle-food,  which  were  well  calculated  to  deter  a 
reader  of  that  book  from  attempting  the  culture.  I  do  not  recollect 
the  zvords  :  but,  the  substance  was,  that  this  plant  could  not  be 
cultivated  to  advantage  by  the  farmer  in  America.  This  was  the 
more  provoking  to  me,  as  I  had,  at  that  moment,  so  fine  a  piece  of 
cabbages  in  Long  Island.  If  the  American  Editor  of  this  work 
had  given  his  readers  the  bare,  unimproved,  Scotch  Edition,  the 
reader  would  have  there  seen,  that,  in  England  and  Scotland,  they 
raise  sixty-eight  tons  of  cabbages  (tons  mind)  upon  an  acre  :  and 
that  the  whole  expence  of  an  acre,  exclusive  of  rent,  is  one  pound, 
fourteen  shillings  and  a  penny  :  or  seven  dollars  and  seventy-five 
cents.  Say  that  the  expence  in  America  is  double  and  the  crop 
one  half,  or  one  fourth,  if  you  like.  Where  are  seventeen  tons 
of  green  food  in  winter,  or  even  in  summer,  to  be  got  for  sixteen 
dollars  :  Nay,  where  is  that  quantity,  of  such  a  quality,  to  be  got 
for  fifty  dollars?  The  Scotch  Edition  gives  an  account  of  fifty ■- 
four  tons  raised  on  an  acre  where  the  land  was  worth  only  twelve 
shillings  (less  than  three  dollars)  an  acre.  In  fairness,  then  the 
American  Editor  should  have  given  to  his  agricultural  readers 
what  the  Scotchman  had  said  upon  the  subject.  And,  if  he  still 
thought  it  right  to  advise  the  American  farmers  not  to  think  of 
cabbages,  he  should,  I  think,  have  offered  them  some,  at  least, 
of  the  reasons  for  his  believing,  that  that  which  was  obtained  in 
such  abundance  in  England  and  Scotland,  was  not  to  be  obtained 
to  any  profit  at  all  here.  What !  will  not  this  immense  region 
furnish  a  climate,  for  this  purpose,  equal  even  to  Scotland,  where 
an  oat  will  hardly  ripen  ;  and  where  the  crop  of  that  miserable 
grain  is  sometimes  harvested  amidst  ice  and  snow  !  The  pro- 
position is,  upon  the.  face  of  it,  an  absurdity  ;  and  my  experience 
proves  it  to  be  false. 

191.  This  book  says,  if  I  recollect  rightly,  that  the  culture  has 
been  tried,  and  hss  failed.  Tried  ?  How  tried  ?  That  cabbages, 
and  most  beautiful  cabbages  will  grow,  in  all  parts  of  America, 

99 


CABBAGES 


every  farmer  knows  ;  for  he  has  them  in  his  garden,  or  sees  them, 
every  year,  in  the  gardens  of  others.  And,  if  they  will  grow  in 
gardens,  why  not  infields  ?  Is  there  common  sense  in  supposing, 
that  they  will  not  grow  in  a  piece  of  land,  because  it  is  not  called 
a  garden  ?  The  Encyclopedia  Britannica  gives  an  account  of 
twelve  acres  of  cabbages,  which  would  keep  "forty-five  oxen  and 
"  sixty  sheep  for  three  months  :  improving  them  as  much  as  the 
"  grass  in  the  best  months  in  the  year  (in  England)  May,  June, 
"  and  July."  Of  these  large  cabbages,  being  at  four  feet  apart  in 
the  rows,  one  man  will  easily  plant  out  an  acre  in  a  day.  As  to 
the  seed-bed,  the  labour  of  that  is  nothing,  as  we  have  seen.  Why, 
then,  are  men  frightened  at  the  labour  ?  All  but  the  mere  act  of 
planting  is  performed  by  oxen  or  horses  ;  and  they  never  com- 
plain of  "  the  labour."  The  labour  of  an  acre  of  cabbages  is 
not  half  so  much  as  that  of  an  acre  of  Indian  Corn.  The  bringing 
in  of  the  crop  and  applying  it  are  not  more  expensive  than  those 
of  the  corn.  And  will  any  man  pretend,  that  an  acre  of  good 
cabbages  is  not  worth  three  times  as  much  as  a  crop  of  good  corn  ? 
Besides,  if  early  cabbages,  they  are  off  and  leave  the  land  for 
transplanted  Swedish  Turnips,  for  Late  Cabbages,  or  for  Buck- 
wheat ;  and,  if  late  cabbages,. they  come  after  early  ones,  after 
wheat,  rye,  oats,  or  barley.  This  is  what  takes  place  even  in 
England,  where  the  fall  is  so  much  shorter,  as  to  growing  weather, 
than  it  is  in  Long  Island,  and,  of  course,  all  the  way  to  Georgia. 
More  to  the  North,  in  the  latitude  of  Boston,  for  instance,  two 
crops  of  early  cabbages  will  come  upon  the  same  ground  ;  or  a 
crop  of  early  cabbages  will  follow  any  sort  of  grain,  except 
Buckwheat. 

192.  In  concluding  this  Chapter  I  cannot  help  strongly  recom- 
mending farmers  who  may  be  disposed  to  try  this  culture,  to  try 
it  fairly.  That  is  to  say,  to  employ  true  seed,  good  land,  and  due 
care  :  for,  as  "  men  do  not  gather  grapes  from  thorns,  nor  figs 
"  from  thistles,"  so  they  do  not  harvest  cabbages  from  stems  of 
rape.  Then,  as  to  the  land,  it  must  be  made  good  and  rich,  if 
it  be  not  in  that  state  already  ;  for  a  cabbage  will  not  be  fine, 
where  a  white  Turnip  will  ;  but  as  the  quantity  of  land,  wanted  for 
this  purpose,  is  comparatively  very  small,  the  land  may  easily 
be  made  rich.  The  after-culture  of  cabbages  is  trifling.  No 
weeds  to  plague  us  with  hand-work.  Two  good  ploughings, 
at  most,  will  suffice.  But  ploughing  after  planting  out  is 
necessary  ;  and,  besides,  it  leaves  the  ground  in  so  fine  a  state. 
The  trial  may  be  on  a  small  scale,  if  the  farmer  please.  Perhaps 
it  were  best  to  be  such.  But,  on  whatever  scale,  let  the  trial 
be  a  fair  trial. 

193.  I  shall  speak  again  to  the  use  of  cabbages,  when  I  come  to 
speak  of  Hogs  and  Cozvs. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EARTH-BURNING,    l8l8. 

194.  In  paragraphs  99,  100,  and  101,  I  spoke  of  a  mode  of  pro- 
curing manure  by  the  burning  of  earth,  and  I  proposed  to  try  it 
this  present  year.  This  I  have  now  done,  and  I  proceed  to  give 
an  account  of  the  result. 

195.  I  have  tried  the  efficacy  of  this  manure  on  Cabbages, 
Swedish  Turnips,  Indian  Corn,  and  Buckwheat.  In  the  three 
former  cases  the  Ashes  were  put  into  the  furrow  and  the  earth 
was  turned  over  them,  in  the  same  way  that  I  have  described,  in 
Paragraph  177,  with  regard  to  the  manure  for  Savoys.  I  put  at 
the  rate  of  about  twenty  tons  weight  to  an  acre.  In  the  case  of  the 
Buckwheat,  the  Ashes  were  spread  out  of  the  waggon  upon  a 
little  strip  of  land  on  the  out-side  of  the  piece.  They  were  thickly 
spread  ;  and  it  might  be,  that  the  proportion  exceeded  even 
thirty  tons  to  the  acre.  But,  upon  the  part  where  the  ashes  were 
spread,  the  Buckwheat  was  three  or  four  times  as  good  as  upon  the 
land  adjoining.  The  land  was  very  poor.  It  bore  Buckwheat 
last  year,  without  any  manure.  It  had  two  good  ploughings  then, 
and  it  had  two  good  ploughings  again  this  year,  but  had  no  manure, 
except  the  part  above-mentioned  and  one  other  part  at  a  great 
distance  from  it.     So  that  the  trial  was  very  fair  indeed. 

196.  In  every  instance  the  ashes  produced  great  effect  :  and  I 
am  now  quite  certain,  that  any  crop  may  be  raised  with  the  help 
of  this  manure  ;  that  is  to  say,  any  sort  of  crop  ;  for,  of  dung, 
wood-ashes,  and  earth-ashes,  when  all  are  ready  upon  the  spot, 
without  purchase  or  carting  from  a  distance,  the  two  former  are 
certainly  to  be  employed  in  preference  to  the  latter,  because  a 
smaller  quantity  of  them  will  produce  the  same  effect,  and,  of 
course,  the  application  of  them  is  less  expensive.  But,  in  taking 
to  a  farm  unprovided  with  the  two  former  ;  or  under  circum- 
stances which  make  it  profitable  to  add  to  the  land  under  cultiva- 
tion, what  can  be  so  convenient,  what  so  cheap,  as  ashes  procured 
in  this  way  ? 

197.  A  near  neighbour  of  mine,  Mr.  Dayrea,  sowed  a  piece  of 
Swedish  Turnips,  broad-cast,  in  June,  this  year.  The  piece  was 
near  a  wood,  and  there  was  a  great  quantity  of  clods  of  a  grassy 
description.     These  he  burnt  into  ashes,  which  ashes  he  spread 


EARTH-BURNING 


over  one  half  of  the  piece,  while  he  put  soaper's  ashes  over  the  other 
part  of  the  piece.  I  saw  the  turnips  in  October  ;  and  there  was 
no  visible  difference  in  the  two  parts,  whether  as  to  the  vigorous- 
ness  of  the  plants  or  the  bulk  of  the  turnips.  They  were  sown 
broad-cast,  and  stood  unevenly  upon  the  ground.  They  were 
harvested  a  month  ago  (it  is  now  26  November),  which  was  a 
month  too  early.  They  would  have  been  a  third,  at  least,  more 
in  bulk,  and  much  better  in  quality,  if  they  had  remained  in  the 
ground  until  now.  The  piece  was  70  paces  long  and  7  paces 
wide  ;  and,  the  reader  will  find,  that,  as  the  piece  produced  forty 
bushels,  this  was  at  the  rate  of  four  hundred  bushels  to  the  acre. 

198.  What  quantity  of  earth  ashes  were  spread  on  this  piece  it  is 
impossible  to  ascertain  with  precision  ;  but,  I  shall  suppose  the 
quantity  to  have  been  very  large  indeed  in  proportion  to  the 
surface  of  the  land.  Let  it  be  four  times  the  quantity  of  the 
soaper's  ashes.  Still,  the  one  was  made  upon  the  spot,  at,  perhaps, 
a  tenth  part  of  the  cost  of  the  other  ;  and,  as  such  ashes  can  be 
made  upon  any  farm,  there  can  be  no  reason  for  not  trying  the 
thing,  at  any  rate,  and  which  trying  may  be  effected  upon  so  small 
a  scale  as  not  to  exceed  in  expence  a  half  of  a  dollar.  I  presume, 
that  many  farmers  will  try  this  method  of  obtaining  manure  ; 
and,  therefore,  I  will  describe  how  the  burning  is  effected. 

199.  There  are  two  ways  of  producing  ashes  from  earth  :  the 
one  in  heaps  upon  the  ground,  and  the  other  within  walls  of  turf, 
or  earth.  The  first,  indeed,  is  the  burning  of  turf,  or  peat.  But, 
let  us  see  how  it  is  done. 

200.  The  surface  of  the  land  is  taken  off  to  a  depth  of  two  or 
three  inches,  and  turned  the  earth  side  uppermost  to  dry.  The  land, 
of  course  is  covered  with  grass,  or  heath,  or  something,  the  roots 
of  which  hold  it  together,  and  which  makes  the  part  taken  off  take 
the  name  of  turf.  In  England,  this  operation  is  performed  with 
a  turf-cutter,  and  by  hand.  The  turfs  are  then  taken,  or  a  part 
of  them,  at  least,  and  placed  on  their  edges,  leaning  against  each 
other,  like  the  two  sides  of  the  roof  of  a  house.  In  this  state 
they  remain,  'till  they  are  dry  enough  to  burn.  Then  the  burning 
is  begun  in  this  way.  A  little  straw  and  some  dry  sticks,  or  any 
thing  that  will  make  a  trifling  fire,  is  lighted.  Some  little  bits  of 
the  turf  are  put  to  this.  When  the  turf  is  on  fire,  more  bits  are 
carefully  put  round  against  the  openings  whence  the  smoke  issues. 
In  the  course  of  a  day  or  two  the  heap  grows  large.  The  burnings 
keeps  working  on  the  inside,  though  there  never  appears  any 
blaze.  Thus  the  field  is  studded  with  heaps.  After  the  first 
fire  is  got  to  be  of  considerable  bulk,  no  straw  is  wanted  for  other 
heaps,  because  a  good  shovel  full  of  fire  can  be  carried  to  light 
other  heaps  ;  and  so,  until  all  the  heaps  are  lighted.  Then  the 
workman  goes  from  heap  to  heap,  and  carries  the  turf  to  all,  by 
degrees,  putting  some  to  each  heap  every  day  or  two,  until  all  the 
field  be  burnt.  He  takes  care  to  keep  in  the  smoke  as  much  as 
possible.     When  all  the  turf  is  put  on,  the  field  is  left  ;   and,  in 

102 


EARTH-BURNING 


a  week  or  two,  whether  it  rain  or  not,  the  heaps  are  ashes  instead 
of  earth.  The  ashes  are  afterwards  spread  upon  the  ground  ; 
the  ground  is  ploughed  and  sowed  ;  and  this  i3  regarded  as  the 
very  best  preparation  for  a  crop  of  turnips. 

201.  This  is  called  "paring  and  burning."  It  was  introduced 
into  England  by  the  Romans,  and  it  is  strongly  recommended  in 
the  First  Georgic  of  Virgil,  in,  as  Mr.  Tull  shows,  very  fine 
poetry,  very  bad  philosophy,  and  still  worse  logic.  It  gives  three 
or  four  crops  upon  even  poor  land  ;  but,  it  ruins  the  land  for  an 
age.  Hence  it  is,  that  tenants,  in  England,  are,  in  many  cases, 
restrained  from  paring  and  burning,  especially  towards  the  close 
of  their  leases.  It  is  the  Roman  husbandry,  which  has  always 
been  followed,  until  within  a  century,  by  the  French  and  English. 
It  is  implicitly  followed  in  France  to  this  day  ;  as  it  is  by  the  great 
mass  of  common  farmers  in  England.  All  the  foolish  country 
sayings  about  Friday  being  an  unlucky  day  to  begin  any  thing  fresh 
upon  ;  about  the  noise  of  Geese  foreboding  bad  weather  ;  about 
the  signs  of  the  stars  :  about  the  influence  of  the  moon  on  animals, 
these,  and  scores  of  others,  equally  ridiculous  and  equally  injurious 
to  true  philosophy  and  religion,  came  from  the  Romans,  and  are 
inculcated  in  those  books,  which  pedants  call  "  classical"  and 
which  are  taught  to  "  young  gentlemen  "  at  the  universities  and  in 
academies.  Hence,  too,  the  foolish  notions  of  sailors  about 
Friday,  which  notions  very  often  retard  the  operations  of  com- 
merce. I  have  known  many  a  farmer,  when  his  wheat  was  dead 
ripe,  put  off  the  beginning  of  harvest  from  Thursday  to  Saturday, 
in  order  to  avoid  Friday.  The  stars  save  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  iambs  and  pigs  from  sexual  degradation  at  so  early  an  age  as  the 
operation  would  otherwise  be  performed  upon  them.  These 
heathen  notions  still  prevail  even  in  America  as  far  as  relates  to 
this  matter.  A  neighbour  of  mine  in  Long  Island,  who  was  to 
operate  en  some  pigs  and  lambs  for  me,  begged  me  to  put  the  thing 
off  for  a  while  ;  for,  that  the  Almanac  told  him,  that  the  signs  were, 
just  then,  as  unfavourable  as  possible.  I  begged  him  to  proceed, 
for  that  I  set  all  stars  at  defiance.  He  very  kindly  complied,  and 
had  the  pleasure  to  see,  that  every  pig  and  lamb  did  well.  He  was 
surprized  when  I  tola  him,  that  this  mysterious  matter  was  not 
only  a  bit  of  priest-craft,  but  of  heathen  priest-craft,  cherished  by 
priests  of  a  more  modern  date,  because  it  tended  to  bewilder  the 
senses  and  to  keep  the  human  mind  in  subjection.  "  What  a 
"  thing  it  is,  Mr.  Wiggins,"  said  I,  "  that  a  cheat  practised  upon 
"  the  pagans  of  Italy,  two  or  three  thousand  years  ago,  should,  by 
"  alrnanac-makers,  be  practised  on  a  sensible  farmer  in  America  !  5' 
If  priests,  instead  of  preaching  so  much  about  mysteries,  were  to 
explain  to  their  hearers  the  origin  of  cheat3  like  this,  one  might 
be  ready  to  allow,  that  the  wages  paid  to  them  were  not  wholly 
thrown  away. 

202.  I  make  no  apology  for  this  digression  ;  for,  if  it  have  a 
tendency  to  set  the  minds  of  only  a  few  persons  on  the  track  of 

103 


EARTH-BURNING 


detecting  the  cheatery  of  priests,  the  room  which  it  occupies  will 
have  been  well  bestowed. 

203 .  To  return  to  paring  and  burning  :  the  reader  will  see  with 
what  ease  it  might  be  done  in  America,  where  the  sun  would  do 
more  than  half  the  work.  Besides  the  paring  might  be  done  with 
the  plough.  A  sharp  shear,  going  shallow,  could  do  the  thing 
perfectly  well.     Cutting  across  would  make  the  sward  into  turfs. 

204.  So  much  for  paring  and  burning.  But,  what  I  recommend 
is,  not  to  burn  the  land  which  is  to  be  cultivated,  but  other  earth, 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  ashes  to  be  brought  on  the  land.  And 
this  operation,  I  perform  thus  :  I  make  a  circle,  or  an  oblong 
square.  I  cut  sods  and  build  a  wall  all  round,  three  feet  thick 
and  four  feet  high.  I  "then  light  a  fire  in  the  middle  with  straw, 
dry  sticks,  boughs,  or  such  like  matter.  I  go  on  making  this  fire 
larger  and  larger  till  it  extends  over  the  whole  of  the  bottom  of  the 
pit,  or  kiln.  I  put  on  roots  of  trees  or  any  rubbish  wood,  till  there 
be  a  good  thickness  of  strong  coals.  I  then  put  on  the  driest  of 
the  clods  that  I  have  ploughed  up  round  about  so  as  to  cover  all 
the  fire  over.  The  earth  thus  put  in  will  burn.  You  will  see 
the  smoke  coming  out  at  little  places  here  and  there.  Put  more 
clods  wherever  the  smoke  appears.  Keep  on  thus  for  a  day  or 
two.  By  this  time  a  great  mass  of  fire  will  be  in  the  inside.  And 
now  you  may  dig  out  the  clay,  or  earth,  any  where  round  the  kiln, 
and  fling  it  on  without  ceremony,  always  taking  care  to  keep  in  the 
smoke  :  for,  if  you  suffer  that  to  continue  coming  out  at  any  one 
place,  a  hole  will  soon  be  made  ;  the  main  force  of  the  fire  will 
draw  to  that  hole  ;  a  blaze,  like  that  of  a  volcano  will  come  out, 
and  the  fire  will  be  extinguished. 

205 .  A  very  good  way,  is,  to  put  your  finger  into  the  top  of  the 
heap  here  and  there  ;  and  if  you  find  the  fire  very  near,  throw  on 
more  earth.  Not  too  much  at  a  time  :  for  that  weighs  too  heavily 
on  the  fire,  and  keeps  it  back  ;  and,  at  first,  will  put  it  partially 
out.  You  keep  on  thus  augmenting  the  kiln,  till  you  get  to  the 
top  of  the  walls,  and  then  you  may,  if  you  like,  raise  the  walls, 
and  still  go  on.  No  rain  will  affect  the  fire  when  once  it  is  become 
strong. 

206.  The  principle  is  to  keep  out  air,  whether  at  the  top  or  the 
sides,  and  this  you  are  sure  to  do,  if  you  keep  in  the  smoke.  I 
burnt,  this  last  summer,  about  thirty  waggon  loads  in  one  round 
kiln,  and  never  saw  the  smoke  at  all  after  the  first  four  days.  I 
put  in  my  finger  to  try  whether  the  fire  was  near  the  top  ;  and 
when  I  found  it  approaching,  I  put  on  more  earth.  Never  was  a 
kiln  more  completely  burnt. 

207.  Nov/,  this  may  be  done  on  the  skirt  of  any  wood,  where 
the  matters  are  all  at  hand.  This  mode  is  far  preferable  to  the 
above-ground  burning  in  heaps.  Because,  in  the  first  place,  there 
the  materials  must  be  turf,  and  dry  turf  ;  and,  in  the  next  place, 
the  smoke  escapes  there,  which  is  the  finest  part  of  burnt  matter. 
Soot,  we  know  well,  is  more  powerful  than  ashes  ;    and,  soot  is 

104 


EARTH-BURNING 


composed  of  the  grossest  part  of  the  smoke.     That  which  flies  out 
of  the  chimney  is  the  best  part  of  all. 

2o3.  In  case  of  a  want  of  mood  wherewith  to  begin  the  fire,  the 
fire  may  be  lighted  precisely  as  in  the  case  of  paring  and  burning. 
If  the  kiln  be  large,  the  oblong  square  is  the  best  figure.  About 
ten  feet  wide,  because  then  a  man  can  fling  the  earth  easily  over 
every  part.  The  mode  they  pursue  in  England,  where  there  is  no 
wood,  is  to  make  a  sort  of  building  in  the  kiln  with  turfs,  and  leave 
air-holes  at  the  corners  of  the  walls,  till  the  fire  be  well  begun. 
But  this  is  tedious  work  ;  and,  in  this  country  wholly  unnecessary. 
Care  must,  however,  be  taken,  that  the  fire  be  well  lighted.  The 
matter  put  in  at  first  should  be  such  as  is  of  the  lightest  description; 
so  that  a  body  of  earth  on  fire  may  be  obtained,  before  it  be  too 
heavily  loaded. 

209.  The  burning  being  completed,  having  got  the  quantity 
you  want,  let  the  kiln  remain.  The  fire  will  continue  to  work, 
'till  all  is  ashes.  If  you  want  to  use  the  ashes  sooner,  open  the 
kiln.     They  will  be  cold  enough  to  remove  in  a  week. 

210.  Some  persons  have  peat,  or  bog  earth.  This  may  be  burnt 
like  common  earth,  in  kilns,  or  dry,  as  in  the  paring  and  burning 
method.  Only,  the  peat  should  be  cut  out  in  the  shape  of  bricks, 
as  much  longer  and  bigger  as  you  find  convenient,  and  set  up  to 
dry,  in  the  same  way  that  bricks  are  set  up  to  dry  previous  to  the 
burning.  This  is  the  only  fuel  for  houses  in  some  parts  of  England . 
I  myself  was  nursed  and  brought  up  without  ever  seeing  any  other 
sort  of  fire.  The  ashes  used,  in  those  times,  to  be  sold  for  four 
pence  sterling  a  bushel,  and  were  frequently  carried,  after  the 
purchase,  to  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  or  more  :  At  this  time,  in 
my  own  neighbourhood,  in  Hampshire,  peat  is  burnt  in  large 
quantities  for  the  ashes,  which  are  sold,  I  believe,  as  high  as 
sixpence  sterling  a  bushel,  and  carried  to  a  distance  even  of  twenty 
miles  in  some  cases. 

211.  Nevertheless  it  is  certain,  that  these  ashes  are  not  equally 
potent  upon  every  sort  of  soil.  We  do  not  use  them  much  at 
Botley,  though  upon  the  spot.  They  are  carried  away  to  the 
higher  and  poorer  lands,  where  they  are  sozvn  by  hand  upon  clover 
and  sain-foin.  An  excellent  farmer,  in  this  Island,  assures  me, 
that  he  has  tried  them  in  various  ways,  and  never  found  them  to 
have  effect.  So  say  the  farmers  near  Botley.  But,  there  is  no 
harm  in  making  a  trial.  It  is  done  with  a  mere  nothing  of  expence. 
A  yard  square  in  a  garden  is  quite  sufficient  for  the  experiment. 

212.  With  respect  to  earth-ashes,  burnt  in  kilns,  keeping  in  ike 
smoke,  I  have  proved  their  great  good  effect  ;  but,  still,  I  would 
recommend  trying  them  upon  a  small  scale.  However,  let  it  be 
borne  in  mind,  that  the  proportion  to  the  acre  ought  to  be  large. 
Thirty  good  tons  to  an  acre  ;  and  why  may  it  not  be  such,  seeing 
that  the  expence  is  so  trifling  ? 


105 


CHAPTER  V. 

TRANSPLANTING   INDIAN   CORN. 

213 .  I  was  always  of  opinion,  that  this  would  be  the  best  mode, 
under  certain  circumstances,  of  dealing  with  this  crop.  The 
spring,  in  this  part  of  America,  and  further  to  the  North,  is  but 
short.  It  is  nearly  winter  'till  it  is  summer.  The  labours  of  the 
year  are,  at  this  season,  very  much  crowded.  To  plant  the  grains 
of  the  Indian  Corn  over  a  whole  field  requires  previous  ploughing, 
harrowing,  marking,  and  manuring.  The  consequence  is,  that, 
as  there  are  so  many  other  things  to  do,  something  is  but  too  often 
badly  done. 

214.  Now,  if  this  work  of  Corn  planting  could  be  postponed  to 
the  25th  of  June  (for  this  Island)  instead  of  being  performed  on, 
or  about  the  15th  of  May,  how  well  the  ground  might  be  prepared 
by  the  25th  of  June  !  This  can  be  done  only  by  transplanting  the 
plants  of  the  Corn.  I  was  resolved  to  try  this  ;  and  so  confident 
was  I  that  it  would  succeed,  that  I  had  made  some  part  of  my 
preparations  for  six  acres. 

215.  I  sowed  the  seed  at  about  three  inches  apart,  in  beds,  on 
the  20th  of  May.  The  plants  stood  in  the  beds  (about  15  perches 
of  ground)  till  the  first  of  July.  They  were  now  two  feet  and  a 
half  high  :  and  I  was  ready  to  begin  planting  out.  The  weather 
had  been  dry  in  the  extreme.  Not  a  drop  of  rain  for  nearly  a 
month.  My  land  was  poor,  but  clean  ;  and  I  ought  to  have 
proceeded  to  do  the  job  at  once.  My  principal  man  had  heard 
60  much  in  ridicule  of  the  project,  £hat  he  was  constantly  begging 
and  praying  me  not  to  persevere.  "  Every  body  said  it  was 
"  impossible  for  the  Corn  to  live  !  "  However,  I  began.  I 
ploughed  a  part  of  the  field  into  four-feet  ridges,  and,  one  evening, 
set  on,  thus  :  I  put  a  good  quantity  of  earth-ashes  in  the  deep 
furrow  between  the  ridges,  then  turned  back  the  earth  over  them, 
and  then  planted  the  Corn  on  the  ridge,  at  a  foot  apart.  We 
pulled  up  the  plants  without  ceremony,  cut  off  their  roots  to  half  an 
inch  long,  cut  oft  their  leaves  about  eight  inches  down  from  their 
points,  and,  with  a  long  setting  stick,  stuck  them  about  seven 
inches  into  the  ground  down  amongst  the  fresh  mould  and  ashes. 

216.  This  was  on  the  ist  of  July  in  the  evening  ;  and,  not  willing 
to  be  laughed  at  too  much,  I  thought  I  would  pause  two  or  three 

106 


TRANSPLANTING  INDIAN  CORN 

days  ;  for,  really,  the  sun  seemed  as  if  it  would  burn  up  the  very 
earth.  At  the  close  of  the  second  day,  news  was  brought  me, 
that  the  Corn  was  all  dead.  I  went  out  and  looked  at  it,  and 
though  I  saw  that  it  was  not  dead,  I  suffered  the  everlasting 
gloomy  peal  that  my  people  rang  in  my  ears  to  extort  from  me 
my  consent  to  the  pulliv.g  up  of  the  rest  of  the  plants  and  throwing 
them  away  :  consent  which  was  acted  upon  with  such  joy,  alacrity, 
and  zeal,  that  the  whole  lot  were  lying  under  the  garden  fence  in 
a  few  minutes.  My  man  intended  to  give  them  to  the  oxen,  from 
the  charitable  desire,  I  suppose,  of  annihilating  this  proof  of  his 
master's  folly.  He  would  have  pulled  up  the  two  rows  which  we 
had  transplanted  ;  but  I  would  not  consent  to  that  ;  for,  I  was 
resolved,  that  they  should  have  a  week's  trial.  At  the  end  of  the 
week  I  went  out  and  looked  at  them.  I  slipped  out  at  a  time 
when  no  one  was  likely  to  see  me  !  At  a  hundred  yards'  distance 
the  plants  looked  like  so  many  little  Corn  stalks  in  November  ; 
but,  at  twenty  yards,  I  saw  that  all  was  right,  and  I  began  to  re- 
proach myself  for  having  suffered  my  mind  to  be  thwarted  in  its 
purpose  by  opinions  opposed  to  principles.  I  saw,  that  the  plants 
were  all  alive,  and  had  begun  to  shoot  in  the  heart.  I  did  not  stop 
a  minute.  I  hastened  back  to  the  garden  to  see  whether  any  of  the 
plants,  which  lay  in  heaps,  were  yet  alive. 

217.  Now,  mind,  the  plants  were  put  out  on  the  first  of  July  ; 
the  15  succeeding  days  were  not  only  dry,  but  the  very  hottest 
of  this  gloriously  hot  summer.  The  plants  that  had  been  flung 
away  were,  indeed,  nearly  all  dead  :  but,  some,  which  lay  at  the 
bottoms  of  the  heaps,  were  not  only  alive,  but  had  shot  their  roots 
into  the  ground.  I  resolved  to  plant  out  two  rows  of  these,  even 
these.  While  I  was  at  it  Mr.  Judge  Mitchell  called  upon  me. 
He  laughed  at  us  very  heartily.  This  was  on  the  8th  of  July. 
I  challenged  him  to  take  him  three  to  one  my  two  rows  against  any 
two  rows  of  his  corn  of  equal  length  ;  and  he  is  an  excellent 
farmer  on  excellent  land.  "  Then,"  said  I,  "if  you  are  afraid 
"  to  back  your  opinion,  I  do  not  mind  your  laugh." 

218.  On  the  27th  of  August  Mr.  Judge  Mitchell  and  his 
brother  the  justly  celebrated  Doctor  Mitchell  did  me  the 
honour  to  call  here.  I  was  gone  to  the  mill  ;  but  they  saw  the 
Corn.  The  next  day  I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  Doctor  Mitchell, 
for  the  first  time,  at  his  brother's  ;  and  a  very  great  pleasure  it 
was  ;  for  a  man  more  full  of  knowledge  and  apparently  less, 
conscious  of  it,  I  never  saw  in  my  life.  But,  the  Corn  :  "  What 
do  you  think  of  my  Corn  now  ?  "  I  asked  Mr.  Mitchell, 
whether  he  did  not  think  I  should  have  won  the  wager.  "  Why 
"  I  do  not  know,  indeed,"  said  he,  "as  to  the  two  first  planted 
"  rows." 

219.  On  the  10th  of  September,  Mr.  Judge  Lawrence,  in 
company  with  a  young  gentleman,  saw  the  Corn.  He  examined 
the  ears.  Said  that  they  were  well-filled,  and  the  grains  large. 
He  made  some  calculations  as  to  the  amount  of  the  crop.     I 

107 


TRANSPLANTING  INDIAN  CORN 

think  he  agreed  with  me,  that  it  would  be  at  the  rate  of  about 
forty  bushels  to  the  acre.  All  that  now  remained  was  to  harvest 
the  Corn,  in  a  few  weeks'  time,  to  shell,  to  weigh  it  ;  and  to  obtain 
a  couple  of  rows  of  equal  length  of  every  neighbour  surrounding 
me  ;  and  then,  make  the  comparison,  the  triumphant  result  of 
which  I  anticipated  with  so  much  certainty,  that  my  impatience 
for  the  harvest  exceeded  in  degree  the  heat  of  the  weather,  though 
that  continued  broiling  hot.  That  very  night  !  the  night  following 
the  day  when  Mr.  Judge  Lawrence  saw  the  Corn,  eight  or  nine 
steers  and  heifers  leaped,  or  broke,  into  my  pasture  from  the  road, 
kindly  poked  down  the  fence  of  the  field  to  take  with  them  four 
oxen  of  my  own  which  had  their  heads  tied  down,  and  in  they  all 
went  just  upon  the  transplanted  Corn,  of  which  they  left  neither 
ear  nor  stem,  except  about  two  bushels  of  ears  which  they  had,  in 
their  haste,  trampled  under  foot  !  What  a  mortification  !  Half 
an  acre  of  fine  cabbages  nearly  destroyed  by  the  biting  a  hole  in 
the  hearts  of  a  great  part  of  them  ;  turnips  torn  up  and  trampled 
about  ;  a  scene  of  destruction  and  waste,  which,  at  another  time, 
would  have  made  me  stamp  and  rave  (if  not  swear)  like  a  mad- 
man, seemed  now  nothing  at  all.  The  Corn  was  such  a  blow, 
that  nothing  else  was  felt.  I  was,  too,  both  hand-tied  and  tongue- 
tied.  I  had  nothing  to  wreak  my  vengeance  on.  In  the  case  of 
the  Boroughmongers  I  can  repay  blow  with  blow,  and,  as  they 
have  already  felt,  with  interest  and  compound  interest.  But, 
there  was  no  human  being  that  I  could  blame  ;  and,  as  to  the 
depredators  themselves,  though  in  this  instance,  their  conduct 
did  seem  worthy  of  another  being,  whom  priests  have  chosen  to 
furnish  with  horns  as  well  as  tail,  what  was  I  to  do  against  them  ? 
In  short,  I  had,  for  once  in  my  life,  to  submit  peaceably  and 
quietly,  and  to  content  myself  with  a  firm  resolution  never  to 
plant,  or  sow,  again  without  the  protection  of  a  fence,  which  an 
ox  cannot  get  over  and  which  a  pig  cannot  go  under. 

220.  This  Corn  had  every  disadvantage  to  contend  with  :  poor 
land  ;  no  manure  but  earth-ashes  burnt  out  of  that  same  land  ; 
planted  in  dry  earth  ;  planted  in  dry  and  hot  weather  ;  no  rain 
to  enter  two  inches,  until  the  8th  of  August,  nine  and  thirty  days 
after  the  transplanting  ;  and  yet,  every  plant  had  one  good  perfect 
ear,  and,  besides,  a  small  ear  to  each  plant  :  and  some  of  the  plants 
had  three  ears,  two  perfect  and  one  imperfect.  Even  the  two 
last-planted  rows,  though  they  were  not  so  good,  were  not  bad. 
My  opinion  is,  that  their  produce  would  have  been  at  the  rate  of 
25  bushels  to  the  acre  ;  and  this  is  not  a  bad  crop  of  Corn. 

221.  F6r  my  part,  if  I  should  cultivate  Corn  again,  I  shall 
transplant  it  to  a  certainty.  Ten  days  earlier,  perhaps  ;  but  I 
shall  certainly  transplant  what  I  grow.  I  know,  that  the  labour 
will  be  less,  and  I  believe  that  the  crop  will  be  far  greater.  No 
dropping  the  seed  ;  no  hand-hoeing  ;  no  patching  after  the  cut- 
worm, or  brown  grub  :  no  suckers  :  no  grass  and  weeds  ;  no 
stifling  :   every  plant  has  its  proper  space  ;   all  is  clean  ;   and  one 

108 


TRANSPLANTING  INDIAN  CORN 

good  deep  ploughing,  or  two  at  most,  leaves  the  ground  as  clean 
as  a  garden  ;  that  is  to  say,  as  a  garden  ought  to  be.  The  sowing 
of  the  seed  in  beds  is  one  day's  work  (for  ten  acres)  for  one  man. 
Hoeing  the  young  plants,  another  day.  Transplanting,  four 
dollars  an  acre  to  the  very  outside.  "  But  where  are  the  hands 
11  to  come  from  to  do  the  transplanting  ?  "  One  would  think, 
that,  to  hear  this  question  so  often  repeated,  the  people  in  America 
were  like  the  Rhodian  Militia,  described  in  the  beautiful  poem 
of  Dryden,  "  mouths  vHthout  hands"  Far,  however,  is  this 
from  being  the  case  ;  or  else,  where  would  the  hands  come  from 
to  do  the  marking  :  the  dropping  and  covering  of  the  Corn  ;  the 
hand-hoeing  of  it,  sometimes  twice  ;  the  patching  after  the  grubs  ; 
the  suckering  when  that  work  is  done,  as  it  always  ought  to  be  ? 
Put  the  plague  and  expences  of  all  these  operations  together,  and 
you  will,  I  believe,  find  them  to  exceed  four  or  even  six,  dollars 
an  acre,  if  they  be  all  well-  done,  and  the  Corn  kept  perfectly 
clean. 

222.  The  transplanting  of  ten  acres  of  Corn  cannot  be  done  all 
in  one  day  by  two  or  three  men  ;  nor  is  it  at  all  necessary  that  it 
should.  It  may  be  done  within  the  space  of  twelve  or  fourteen 
days.  Little  boys  and  girls,  very  small,  will  carry  the  plants, 
and  if  the  farmer  will  but  try,  he  will  stick  in  an  acre  a  day  himself  : 
for,  observe,  nothing  is  so  easily  done.  There  is  no  fear  of  dearth. 
The  plants,  in  soft  ground,  might  almost  be  poked  down  like  so 
many  sticks.  I  did  not  try  it  ;  but,  I  am  pretty  sure,  that  the 
roots  might  be  cut  all  off  close,  so  that  the  stump  were  left  entire, 
For,  mind,  a  fibre,  of  a  stout  thing,  never  grows  again  after  re- 
moval. New  ones  must  come  out  of  new  roots,  too,  or  the  plant, 
whether  corn  or  tree,  will  die.  When  some  people  plant  trees, 
they  are  so  careful  not  to  cut  off  the  little  hairy  fibres  :  for  these. 
they  think,  will  catch  hold  of  the  ground  immediately .  If,  when 
they  have  planted  in  the  fall,  they  were  to  open  the  ground  in 
June  the  next  year,  what  would  be  their  surprise  to  find  all  the 
hairy  fibres  in  a  mouldy  state,  and  the  new  small  roots  shot  out 
of  the  big  roots  of  the  tree,  and  no  new  fibres  at  all  yet  ?  for,  these 
come  out  of  the  new  small  roots  !  It  is  the  same  with  every  sort 
of  plant,  except  of  a  very  small  size  and  very  quickly  moved  from 
earth  to  earth. 

223 .  If  any  one  choose  to  try  this  method  of  cultivating  Corn, 
let  him  bear  in  mind,  that  the  plants  ought  to  be  strong,  and  nearly 
two  feet  high.  The  leaves  should  be  shortened  by  all  means  ; 
for,  they  must  perish  at  the  tops  before  the  new  flow  of  sap  can 
reach  them.  I  have  heard  people  say,  that  they  have  tried  trans- 
planting Corn  very  often,  but  have  never  found  it  to  answer. 
But  how  have  they  tried  it  ?  Why,  when  the  grub  has  destroyed 
a  hill,  they  have  taken  from  other  hills  the  superabundant  plants 
and  filled  up  the  vacancy.  In  the  first  place,  they  have  done  this 
when  the  plants  were  small  ;  that  is  not  my  plan.  Then  they 
have  put  the  plants  in  stale  hard  ground  ;    that  is  not  my  plan. 

I  109 


TRANSPLANTING  INDIAN  CORN 

Then  they  have  put  them  into  ground  where  prosperous  neigh- 
bours had  the  start  of  them  ;  that  is  not  my  plan.  I  am  not  at  all 
surprized,  that  they  have  not  found  their  plan  to  answer  :  but, 
that  is  no  reason  that  mine  should  not  answer.  The  best  way  will 
be  to  try  three  rows  in  any  field,  and  see  which  method  requires  the 
least  labour  and  produces  the  largest  crop. 

224.  At  any  rate,  the  facts,  which  I  have  stated  upon  this  subject 
are  curious  in  themselves  ;  they  are  useful,  as  they  shew  what  we 
may  venture  to  do  in  the  removing  of  plants  ;  and  they  shew  most 
clearly  how  unfounded  are  the  fears  of  those,  who  imagine,  that 
Corn  is  injured  by  ploughing  between  it  and  breaking  its  roots. 
My  plants  owed  their  vigour  and  their  fruit  to  their  removal  into 
fresh  pasture  :  and,  the  oftener  the  land  is  ploughed  between 
growing  crops  of  any  sort  (allowing  the  roots  to  shoot  between  the 
ploughings)  the  better  it  is.  I  remember  that  Lord  Ranelah 
showed  me  in  1806,  in  his  garden  at  Fulham,  a  peach  tree,  which 
he  had  removed  in  full  bloom,  and  that  must  have  been  in  March, 
and  which  bore  a  great  crop  of  fine  fruit  the  same  year.  If  a  tree 
can  be  thus  dealt  with,  why  need  we  fear  to  transplant  such  things 
as  Indian  Corn  ? 


no 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SWEDISH   TURNIPS. 

225.  Upon  this  subject  I  have  no  great  deal  to  add  to  what  was 
said  in  Part  I.  Chap.  II.  There  are  a  few  things,  however,  that 
I  omitted  to  mention,  which  I  will  mention  here. 

226.  I  sow  my  seed  by  hand.  All  machinery  is  imperfect  for 
this  purpose.  The  wheel  of  the  drill  meets  with  a  sudden  check  ; 
it  jumps  ;  the  holes  are  stopped  ;  a  clogging  or  an  improper 
impelling  takes  place  ;  a  gap  is  produced,  and  it  can  never  be  put 
to  rights  ;  and,  after  all,  the  sowing  upon  four  feet  ridges  is  very 
nearly  as  quickly  performed  b)'  hand.  I  make  the  drills,  or 
channels,  to  sow  the  seed  in  by  means  of  a  light  roller,  which  is 
drawn  by  a  horse,  which  rolls  two  ridges  at  a  time,  and  which 
has  two  markers  following  the  roller,  making  a  drill  upon  the  top 
of  each  ridge.  This  saves  time  ;  but,  if  the  hand  do  the  whole, 
a  man  will  draw  the  drills,  sow  the  seed,  and  cover  an  acre  in  a  day 
with  ease. 

227.  The  only  mischief  in  this  case,  is  that  of  sowing  too  thick  : 
and  this  arises  from  the  seed  being  so  nearly  of  the  colour  of  the 
earth.  To  guard  against  this  evil,  I  this  year  adopted  a  method 
which  succeeded  perfectly.  I  zoetted  the  seed  with  water  a  little, 
I  then  put  some  whitening  to  it,  and  by  rubbing  them  well  together, 
the  seed  became  white  instead  of  brown  :  so  that  the  man  when 
sowing,  could  see  what  he  was  about. 

228.  In  my  directions  for  transplanting  turnips  I  omitted  to 
mention  one  very  important  thing  ;  the  care  to  be  taken  not  to 
bury  the  heart  of  the  plant.  I  observed  how  necessary  it  was  to 
fix  the  plant  firmly  in  the  ground  :  and,  as  the  planter  is  strictly 
charged  to  do  this,  he  is  apt  to  pay  little  attention  to  the  means 
by  which  the  object  is  accomplished.  The  thing  is  done  easily 
enough,  if  you  cram  the  butts  of  the  leaves  down  below  the  surface. 
But,  this  brings  the  earth,  with  the  first  rain  at  least,  over  the 
heart  of  the  plant  ;  and  then  it  will  never  grow  at  all  :  it  will  just 
live  :  but  will  never  increase  in  size  one  single  jot.  Care,  there- 
fore, must  be  taken  of  this.  The  fixing  is  to  be  effected  by  the 
stick  being  applied  to  the  point  of  the  root  ;  as  mentioned  in 
paragraph  85.  Not  to  fix  the  plant  is  a  great  fault  ;  but  to  bury 
the  heart  is  a  much  greater  ;  for,  if  this  be  done,  the  plant  is  sure 
to  die. 

in 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


229.  My  own  crop  of  Swedish  Turnips  this  year  is  far  inferior 
to  that  of  last  in  every  respect.  The  season  has  been  singularly 
unfavourable  to  all  green  and  root  crops.  The  grass  has  been 
barer  than  it  was,  I  believe,  ever  known  to  be  ;  and,  of  course, 
other  vegetables  have  experienced  a  similar  fate.  Yet,  I  have 
some  very  good  turnips  ;  and,  even  with  such  a  season,  they  are 
worth  more  than  three  times  what  a  crop  of  Corn  on  the  same 
land  would  have  been.  I  am  now  (25th  Nov.)  giving  the  greens 
to  my  cow  and  hogs.  A  cow  and  forty  stout  hogs  eat  the  greens 
of  about  twenty  or  thirty  rods  of  turnips  in  a  day.  My  five  acres 
of  greens  will  last  about  25  days.  I  give  no  corn  or  grain  of  any 
sort  to  these  hogs,  and  my  English  hogs  are  quite  fat  enough  for 
fresh  pork.  I  have  about  25  more  pigs  to  join  these  forty  in  a 
month's  time  :  about  40  more  will  join  those  before  April.  My 
cabbages  on  an  acre  and  a  half  of  ground  will  carry  me  well  on 
till  February  (unless  I  send  my  Savoys  to  New  York),  and,  when 
the  cabbages  are  done,  I  have  my  Swedish  Turnips  for  March, 
April,  May  and  June,  with  a  great  many  to  sell  if  I  choose.  I 
have,  besides,  a  dozen  ewes  to  keep  on  the  same  food,  with  a  few 
wethers  and  lambs,  for  my  house.  In  June  Early  Cabbages 
come  in  :  and  then  the  hogs  feed  on  them.  Thus  the  year  is 
brought  round. 

230.  But,  what  pleases  me  most,  as  to  the  Swedish  Turnips, 
is,  that  several  of  my  neighbours  have  tried  the  culture,  and  have 
far  surpassed  me  in  it  this  year.  Their  land  is  better  than  mine, 
and  they  have  had  no  Borough- villians  and  Bank-villians  to  fight 
against.  Since  my  Turnips  were  sown,  I  have  written  great  part 
of  a  Grammar  and  have  sent  twenty  Registers  to  England,  besides 
writing  letters  amounting  to  a  reasonable  volume  in  bulk  ;  the 
whole  of  which  has  made  an  average  of  nine  pages  of  common  print 
a  day,  Sundays  included.  And,  besides  this,  I  have  been  twelve 
days  from  home,  on  business,  and  about  five  on  visits.  Now, 
whatever  may  have  been  the  quality  of  the  writings  ;  whether  they 
demanded  mind  or  not,  is  no  matter  :  they  demanded  time  for  the 
fingers  to  move  in,  and  yet,  I  have  not  written  a  hundred  pages  by 
candle-light.  A  man  knows  not  what  he  can  do  'till  he  tries. 
But,  then,  mind,  I  have  always  been  up  with  the  cocks  and  hens  ; 
and  I  have  drunk  nothing  but  milk  and  water.  It  is  a  saying,  that 
*'  wine  inspires  wit  "  :  and  that  "  in  wine  there  is  truth."  These 
sayings  are  the  apologies  of  drinkers.  Every  thing  that  produces 
intoxication,  though  in  but  the  slightest  degree,  is  injurious  to 
the  mind  :  whether  it  be  such  to  the  body  or  not,  is  a  matter  of  far 
less  consequence.  My  Letter  to  Mr.  Tierney,  on  the  state  of  the 
Paper-Money,  has,  I  find,  produced  a  great  and  general  impression 
in  England.  The  subject  was  of  great  importance,  and  the 
treating  it  involved  much  of  that  sort  of  reasoning  which  is  the 
most  difficult  of  execution.  That  Letter,  consisting  of  thirty- 
two  full  pages  of  print,  I  wrote  in  one  day,  and  that,  too,  on  the 
1  ith  of  July,  the  hottest  day  in  the  year.     But,  I  never  could  have 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


done  this,  if  I  had  been  guzzling  wine,  or  grog,  or  beer,  or  cider, 
all  the  day.  I  hope  the  reader  will  excuse  this  digression  ;  and, 
for  my  own  part,  I  think  nothing  of  the  charge  of  egotism,  if,  by 
indulging  in  it,  I  produce  a  proof  of  the  excellent  effects  of  sobriety. 
It  is  not  drunkenness  that  I  cry  out  against  :  that  is  beastly,  and 
beneath  my  notice.  It  is  drinking  :  for  a  man  may  be  a  great 
drinker,  and  yet  no  drunkard.  He  may  accustom  himself  to 
swallow,  'till  his  belly  is  a  sort  of  tub.  The  Spaniards,  who  are 
a  very  sober  people,  call  such  a  man  "  a  wine  bag"  it  being  the 
custom  in  that  country  to  put  wine  into  bags,  made  of  skins  or 
hides.  And,  indeed,  wine  bag  or  grog  bag  or  beer  bag  is  the  suitable 
appellation. 

231.  To  return  to  the  Swedish  Turnips,  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  attend  to  them  in  person  at  all  :  for,  if  I  once  got  out,  I 
should  have  kept  out.  I  was  very  anxious  about  them  ;  but  much 
more  anxious  about  my  duty  to  my  countrymen,  who  have  re- 
mained so  firmly  attached  to  me,  and  in  whose  feelings  and  views, 
as  to  public  matters,  I  so  fully  participate.  I  left  my  men  to  do 
their  best,  and,  considering  the  season,  they  did  very  well.  I  have 
observed  before,  that  I  never  saw  my  Savoys  'till  two  months  after 
they  were  planted  out  in  the  field,  and  I  never  saw  some  of  my 
Swedish  Turnips  'till  within  these  fifteen  days. 

232.  But,  as  I  said  before,  some  of  my  neighbours  have  made  the 
experiment  with  great  success.  I  mentioned  Mr.  Dayrea's  crop 
before,  at  paragraph  197.  Mr.  Hart,  at  South  Hampstead,  has 
a  fine  piece,  as  my  son  informs  me.  His  account  is,  that  the  field 
looked,  in  October,  as  fine  as  any  that  he  ever  saw  in  England. 
Mr.  Judge  Mitchell  has  a  small  field  that  were,  when  I  saw  them, 
as  fine  as  any  that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  He  had  transplanted 
some  in  the  driest  and  hottest  weather  ;  and  they  were  exceedingly 
fine,  notwithstanding  the  singular  untowardness  of  the  season. 

233.  Mr.  James  Byrd  of  Flushing,  has,  however,  done  the  thing 
upon  the  largest  scale.  He  sowed,  in  June,  about  two  acres  and  a 
half  upon  ridges  thirty  inches  apart.  They  were  very  fine  ;  and, 
in  September,  their  leaves  met  across  the  intervals.  On  the  21st 
of  September  I  saw  them  for  the  second  time.  The  field  was  one 
body  of  beautiful  green.  The  weather  still  very  dry.  I  advised 
Mr.  Byrd  to  plough  between  them  by  all  means  ;  for  the  roots  had 
met  long  before  across  the  interval.  He  observed,  that  the  horse 
would  trample  on  the  leaves.  I  said,  "  never  mind  :  the  good  done 
"  by  the  plough  will  be  ten  times  greater  than  the  injury  done  by 
"  the  breaking  of  leaves."  He  said,  that,  great  as  his  fears  were, 
he  would  follow  my  advice.  I  saw  the  turnips  again  on  the  8th 
of  October,  when  I  found,  that  he  had  begun  the  ploughing  ; 
but,  that  the  horse  made  such  havock  amongst  the  leaves,  and  his 
workman  made  such  clamorous  remonstrances,  that,  after  doing  a 
little  piece,  Mr.  Byrd  desisted.  These  were  reasons  wholly  in- 
sufficient to  satisfy  me  ;  and  at  the  latter,  the  remonstrances  of  a 
workman,  I  should  have  ridiculed,  without  a  grain  of  mercy  ;  only 

"3 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


I  recollected,  that  my  men  had  remonstrated  me  (partly  with 
sorrowful  looks  and  shakes  of  the  head)  out  of  my  design  to 
transplant  six  acres  of  Indian  Corn. 

234.  Mr.  Byrd's  crop  was  about  350  bushels  to  an  acre.  I  was 
at  his  house  on  the  23rd  of  this  month  (November)  ;  and  there  I 
heard  two  things  from  him  which  I  communicate  with  great 
pleasure.  The  first  was,  that,  from  the  time  he  began  taking  up 
his  turnips,  he  began  feeding  his  cows  upon  the  greats  :  and,  that 
this  doubled  the  quantity  of  their  milk.  That  the  greens  might 
last  as  long  as  possible,  he  put  them  in  small  heaps,  that  they  might 
not  heat.  He  took  up  his  turnips,  however,  nearly  a  month  too 
early.  They  grow  till  the  hard  frosts  come.  The  greens  are 
not  so  good  till  they  have  had  some  little  frost  :  and,  the  bulb 
should  be  ripe.  I  have  been  now  (27  Nov.)  about  ten  days  cutting 
off  my  greens.  The  bulbs  I  shall  take  up  in  about  ten  days  hence. 
Those  that  are  not  consumed  by  that  time,  I  shall  put  in  small 
heaps  in  the  field,  and  bring  them  away  as  they  may  be  wanted. 

235.  The  other  thing  stated  to  me  by  Mr.  Byrd  pleased  me  very 
much  indeed  ;  not  only  on  account  of  its  being  a  complete  con- 
firmation of  a  great  principle  of  Tull  applied  to  land  in  this 
climate,  but  on  account  also  of  the  candour  of  Mr.  Byrd,  who, 
when  he  had  seen  the  result,  said,  "  I  was  wrong,  friend  Cobbett, 
"  in  not  following  thy  advice."  And  then  he  went  on  to  tell  me, 
that  the  turnips  in  the  piece  which  he  had  ploughed  after  the  21st 
of  September  were  a  crop  a  fourth  part  greater  than  those  adjoining 
them,  which  remained  unploughed.  Thus,  then,  let  no  one  be 
afraid  of  breaking  the  pretty  leaves  that  look  so  gay  ;  and,  how 
false,  then  must  be  the  notion,  that  to  plough  Indian-Corn  in 
dry  weather,  or  late,  is  injurious  !  Why  should  it  not  be  as 
beneficial  to  Corn  as  to  Turnips  and  Cabbages  ? 

236.  Mr.  Byrd  transplanted  with  his  superabundant  plants, 
about  two  acres  and  a  half.  These  he  had  not  taken  up  on  the 
23rd  of  November.  They  were  not  so  fine  as  the  others,  owing 
in  part,  to  the  hearts  of  many  having  been  buried,  and  to  the  whole 
having  been  put  too  deep  into  the  ground.  But,  the  ridges  of 
both  fields  were  too  close  together.  Four  feet  is  the  distance.  You 
cannot  plough  clean  and  deep  within  a  smaller  space  without 
throwing  the  earth  over  the  plants.  But,  as  bulk  of  crop  is  the 
object,  it  is  very  hard  to  persuade  people,  that  tivo  rows  are  not 
better  than  one.  Mr.  Judge  Mitchell  is  a  true  disciple  of  the 
Tullian  System.  His  rows  were  four  feet  asunder  ;  his  ridges 
high  ;  all  according  to  rule.  If  I  should  be  able  to  see  his  crop, 
or  him,  before  this  volume  goes  to  the  press,  I  will  give  some 
account  of  the  result  of  his  labours. 

237.  This  year  has  shown  me,  that  America  is  not  wholly 
exempt  from  that  mortal  enemy  of  turnips,  the  fly,  which  mawled 
some  of  mine,  and  which  carried  off  a  whole  piece  for  Mr.  Judge 
Lawrence  at  Bay-side.  Mr.  Byrd  says,  that  he  thinks,  that  to 
soak  the  seed  in  fish-oil  is  of  use  as  a  protection.     It  is  very  easy 

114 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


to  try  it  ;  but,  the  best  security  is,  pretty  early  sowing  thick,  and 
transplanting.  However,  this  has  been  a  singular  year  :  and, 
even  this  year,  the  ravages  of  the  fly  have  been,  generally  speaking, 
but  trifling. 

238.  Another  enemy  has,  too,  made  his  appearance  :  the 
caterpillar  :  which  came  about  the  tenth  of  October.  These  eat 
the  leaves  ;  and,  sometimes,  they  will,  as  in  England,  eat  all  up, 
if  left  alone.  In  Mr.  Byrd's  field,  they  were  proceeding  on  pretty 
rapidly,  and,  therefore,  he  took  up  his  turnips  earlier  than  he 
would  have  done.  Wide  rows  are  a  great  protection  against  these 
sinecure  gentry  of  the  fields.  They  attacked  me  on  the  outside  of 
a  piece  joining  some  buck-wheat,  where  they  had  been  bred 
When  the  buckwheat  was  cut,  they  sallied  out  upon  the  turnip 
and,  like  the  spawn  of  real  Boroughmongers,  they,  after  eating  all 
the  leaves  of  the  first  row,  went  on  to  the  second,  and  were  thus 
proceeding  to  devour  the  whole.  I  went  with  my  plough, 
ploughed  a  deep  furrow  from  the  rows  of  turnips,  as  far  as  the 
caterpillars  had  gone.  Just  shook  the  plants  and  gave  the  top 
of  the  ridge  a  bit  of  a  sweep  with  a  little  broom.  Then  hurried 
them  alive,  by  turning  the  furrows  back.  Oh  !  that  the  people  of 
England  could  treat  the  Borough- villians  and  their  swarms  in  the 
same  way  !  Then  might  they  hear  without  envy  of  the  easy  and 
happy  lives  of  American  farmers  ! 

239.  A  good  sharp  frost  is  the  only  complete  doctor  for  this 
complaint  ;  but,  wide  rows  and  ploughing  will  do  much,  where 
the  attack  is  made  in  line,  as  in  my  case.  Sometimes,  however, 
the  enemy  starts  up,  here  and  there,  all  over  the  field  ;  and  then 
you  must  plough  the  whole  field,  or  be  content  with  turnips 
without  greens,  and  with  a  diminished  crop  of  turnips  into  the 
bargain.  Mr.  Byrd  told  me,  that  the  caterpillars  did  not  attack 
the  part  of  the  field  which  he  ploughed  after  t'^e  21st  of  September 
with  nearly  so  much  fury  as  they  attacked  the  rest  of  the  field  ! 
To  be  sure  ;  for,  the  turnip  leaves  there,  having  received  fresh 
vigour  from  the  ploughing,  were  of  a  taste  more  acrid  :  and,  you 
always  see,  that  insects  and  reptiles,  that  feed  on  leaves  and  bark, 
choose  the  most  sickly  or  feeble  plants  to  begin  upon,  because  the 
juices  in  them  are  sweeter.  So  that  here  is  another  reason,  and 
not  a  weak  one,  for  deep  and  late  ploughing.  si*. |^j 

240.  I  shall  speak  again  of  Swedish  turnips  when  I  come)  to 
treat  of  hogs  :  but,  I  will  here  add  a  few  remarks  on  the  subject'bf 
preserving  the  roots.  In  paragraph  106,  I  described  the  manner 
in  which  I  stacked  my  turnips  last  year.  That  did  very  well. 
But,  I  will  not,  this  year,  make  any  hole  in  the  ground,  I  will  pile 
up  about  thirty  bushels  upon  the  level  ground,  in  a  pyramidical 
form,  and  then,  to  keep  the  earth  from  running  amongst  them, 
put  over  a  little  straw,  or  leaves  of  trees,  and  about  four  or  five 
inches  of  earth  over  the  whole.  For,  mind,  the  object  is  not  to 
prevent  freezing .  The  turnips  will  freeze  as  hard  as  stones.  But, 
so  that  they  do  not  see  the  sun,  or  the  light,  till  they^are  thawed y 

"5 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


it  is  no  matter.  This  is  the  case  even  with  apples.  I  preserved. 
white  turnips  this  way  last  year.  Keep  the  light  out,  and  all  will 
be  safe  with  every  root  that  I  know  any  thing  of,  except  that 
miserable  thing,  the  potatoe,  which,  consisting  of  earth,  of  a  small 
portion  of  flour,  and  of  water  unmixed  with  sugar,  will  freeze  to 
perdition,  if  it  freeze  at  all.  Mind,  it  is  no  matter  to  the  animals, 
whether  the  Swedish  turnip,  the  white  turnip,  or  the  cabbage, 
be  frozen,  or  not,  at  the  time  when  they  eat  them.  They  are 
just  as  good  ;  and  are  as  greedily  eaten.  Otherwise,  how  would 
our  sheep  in  England  fatten  on  turnips  (even  white  turnips)  in  the 
open  fields  and  amidst  snows  and  hard  frosts  ?  But,  a  potatoe, 
let  the  frost  once  touch  it,  and  it  is  wet  dirt. 

241.  I  am  of  opinion,  that  if  there  were  no  earth  put  over  the 
turnip  heaps,  or  stacks,  it  would  be  better  ;  and,  it  would  be  much 
more  convenient.  I  shall  venture  it  for  a  part  of  my  crop  ;  and  I 
would  recommend  others  to  try  it.  The  Northern  Winter  is, 
therefore,  no  objection  to  the  raising  of  any  of  these  crops  ;  and, 
indeed,  the  crops  are  far  more  necessary  there  than  to  the  South- 
ward, because  the  Northern  Winter  is  so  much  longer  than  the 
Southern.  Let  the  snows  (even  the  Nova  Scotia  snows)  come. 
There  are  the  crops  safe.  Ten  minutes  brings  in  a  waggon  load 
at  any  time  in  winter,  and  the  rest  remain  safe  till  spring. 

242.  I  have  been  asked  how  I  would  manage  the  Swedish 
turnips,  so  as  to  keep  them  'till  June  ox  July.  In  April  (for  Long 
Island)  ;  that  is  to  say,  when  the  roots  begin  to  shoot  out  greens, 
or,  as  they  will  be,  yellows,  when  hidden  from  the  light. — Let  me 
stop  here  a  moment,  to  make  a  remark  which  this  circumstance 
has  suggested.  I  have  said  before,  that  if  you  keep  the  bulbs 
from  the  light,  they  will  freeze  and  thaw  without  the  least  injury. 
I  was  able  to  give  no  reason  for  this  ;  and  who  can  give  a  reason 
for  leaves  being  yellow  if  they  grow  in  the  dark,  and  green,  if  they 
grow  in  the  light  ?  It  is  not  the  sun  (except  as  the  source  of  light) 
that  makes  the  green  :  for  any  plant  that  grows  in  constant  shade 
will  be  green  ;  while  one  that  grows  in  the  dark  will  be  yellow. 
When  my  son,  James,  was  about  three  years  old,  Lord  Cochrane, 
lying  against  a  green  bank  in  the  garden  with  him,  had  asked  him 
many  questions  about  the  sky,  and  the  river,  and  the  sun  and  the 
moon,  in  order  to  learn  what  were  the  notions,  as  to  those  objects, 
in  the  mind  of  a  child.  James  grew  tired,  for,  as  Rousseau,  in 
his  admirable  exposure  of  the  folly  of  teaching  by  question  and 
answer,  observes,  nobody  likes  to  be  questioned,  and  especially 
children.  "  Well,"  said  James,  "  now  you  tell  me  something  ; 
"  what  is  it  that  makes  the  grass  green."  His  Lordship  told  him 
it  was  the  sun.  "  Why,"  said  James,  pulling  up  some  grass, 
"  you  see  it  is  zvhite  down  here."  "  Aye,"  replied  my  Lord, 
"  but  that  is  because  the  sun  cannot  get  at  it."  "  How  get  at 
"  it?  "  said  James  :  "  The  sun  makes  it  hot  all  the  way  down." 
Lord  Cochrane  came  in  to  me,  very  much  delighted  :  "  Here," 
said  he,  "  little  Jemmy  has  started  a  fine  subject  of  dispute  for  all 

116 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


"the  philosophers."  If  this  page  should  have  the  honour  to  meet 
the  eye  of  Lord  Cochrane,  it  will  remind  him  of  one  of  the  many 
happy  hours  that  we  have  passed  together,  and  I  beg  him  to  regard 
any  mention  of  the  incident  as  a  mark  of  that  love  and  respect 
which  I  bear  towards  him,  and  of  the  ardent  desire  I  constantly 
have  to  see  him  avenged  on  all  vile,  cowardly,  perjured  and  in- 
famous persecutors. 

243.  When  any  one  has  told  me,  what  it  is  that  makes  "  grass 
green,"  I  shall  be  able  to  tell  him  what  it  is  that  makes  darkness 
preserve  turnips  ;  and,  in  the  meanwhile,  I  am  quite  content 
with  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  effects. 

244.  So  far  for  the  preservation  zvhile  winter  lasts  :  but,  then, 
how  to  manage  the  roots  when  spring  comes  ?  Take  the  turnips 
out  of  the  heaps  ;  spread  them  upon  the  ground  round  about,  or 
any  where  else  in  the  sun.  Let  them  get  perfectly  dry.  If  they 
lie  a  month  in  sun  and  rain  alternately,  it  does  not  signify.  They 
will  take  no  injury.  Throw  them  on  a  barn's  floor  :  throw  them 
into  a  shed  :  put  them  any  where  out  of  the  way  ;  only  do  not 
put  them  in  thick  heaps  :  for  then  they  will  heat,  perhaps,  and 
grow  a  little.  I  believe  they  may  be  kept  the  whole  year  perfectly 
sound  and  good  ;  but,  at  any  rate,  I  kept  them  thus,  last  vear, 
'iilljuly. 

245.  Of  saving  seed  I  have  some  little  to  say.  I  saved  some, 
in  order  to  see  whether  it  degenerated  :  but,  having,  befcre  the 
seed  was  ripe,  had  such  complete  proof  of  the  degeneracy  of 
cabbage  seed  :  having  been  assured  by  Mr.  William  Smith,  of 
Great  Neck,  that  the  Swedish  turnip  seed  had  degenerated  with 
him  to  a  long  whitish  root  ;  and,  having,  besides,  seen  the  long, 
pale  looking  things  in  New  York  Market  in  June  ;  I  took  no  care 
of  what  I  had  growing,  being  sure  of  the  real  sort  from  England. 
However,  Mr.  Byrd's  were  from  his  own  seed,  which  he  has  saved 
for  several  years.  They  differ  from  mine.  They  are  longer  in 
proportion  to  their  circumference.  The  leaf  is  rather  more 
pointed,  and  the  inside  of  the  bulb  is  not  of  so  deep  a  yellow. 
Some  of  Mr.  Byrd's  have  a  little  hole  towards  the  crown,  and  the 
flesh  is  spotted  with  white  where  the  green  is  cut  off.  He  ascribes 
these  defects  to  the  season  ;  and  it  may  be  so  ;  but,  I  perceive 
them  in  none  of  my  turnips,  which  are  as  clear  and  as  sound, 
though  not  so  large,  as  they  were  last  year. 

246.  Seed  is  a  great  matter.  Perhaps  the  best  way,  for  farmers 
in  general,  would  be  always  to  save  some,  culling  the  plants  care- 
fully, as  mentioned  in  paragraph  32.  This  might  be  sown,  and 
also  some  English  seed,  the  expense  being  so  very  trifling  com- 
pared with  the  value  of  the  object.  At  any  rate,  by  saving  some 
seed,  a  man  has  something  to  sow  ;  and  he  has  it  always  ready. 
He  might  change  his  seed  once  in  three  or  four  years.  But, 
never  forgetting  carefully  to  select  the  plants,  from  which  the 
seed  is  to  be  raised. 


117 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


POSTSCRIPT   TO   THE   CHAPTER   ON  SWEDISH   TURNIPS. 

247.  Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  seen  Mr.  Judge  Mitchell, 
and  having  requested  him  to  favour  me  with  a  written  account 
of  his  experiment,  he  has  obligingly  complied  with  my  request 
in  a  letter,  which  I  here  insert,  together  with  my  answer. 


Ploudome,  7  Dec.  1818. 
Dear  Sir, 

248.  About  the  first  of  June  last,  I  received  the  First  Part  of 
your  Year's  Residence  in  the  United  States,  which  I  was  much 
pleased  with,  and  particularly  the  latter  part  of  the  book,  which 
contains  a  treatise  on  the  culture  of  the  Ruta  Baga.  This  mode  of 
culture  was  new  to  me,  and  I  thought  it  almost  impossible  that 
a  thousand  bushels  should  be  raised  from  one  acre  of  ground. 
However,  I  felt  very  anxious  to  try  the  experiment  in  a  small 
way. 

249.  Accordingly,  on  the  6th  day  of  June,  I  ploughed  up  a  small 
piece  of  ground,  joining  my  salt  meadow,  containing  sixty-five 
rods,  that  had  not  been  ploughed  for  nearly  thirty  years.  I 
ploughed  the  ground  deep,  and  spread  on  it  about  ten  waggon 
loads  of  composition  manure  :  that  is  to  say,  rich  earth  and  yard 
manure  mixed  in  a  heap,  a  layer  of  each  alternately.  I  then 
harrowed  the  ground  with  an  iron-toothed  harrow,  until  the  sur- 
face was  mellow,  and  the  manure  well  mixed  with  the  earth. 

250.  On  the  first  of  July  I  harrowed  the  ground  over  several 
times,  and  got  the  surface  in  good  order  ;  but,  in  consequence  of 
such  late  ploughing,  I  dared  not  venture  to  cross-plough,  for  fear 
of  tearing  up  the  sods,  which  were  not  yet  rotten.  On  the  7th 
of  July  I  ridged  the  ground,  throwing  four  furrows  together,  and 
leaving  the  tops  of  the  ridges  four  feet  asunder,  and  without 
putting  in  any  manure.  I  went  very  shoal  with  the  plough, 
because  deep  ploughing  would  have  turned  up  the  sods. 

251 .  On  the  eighth  of  July  I  sowed  the  seed,  in  single  rows  on  the 
tops  of  the  ridges,  on  all  the  ridges  except  about  eighteen.  On 
eight  of  these  I  sowed  the  seed  on  the  19th  of  July,  when  the  first 
sowing  was  up,  and  very  severely  attacked  by  the  flea  :  and  I  was 
fearful  of  losing  the  whole  of  the  crop  by  that  insect.  About  the 
last  of  July  there  came  a  shower,  which  gave  the  turnips  a  start  ; 
and,  on  the  eighth  day  of  August  I  transplanted  eight  of  the  re- 
maining rows,  early  in  the  morning.  The  weather  was  now  very 
dry,  and  the  turnips  sown  on  the  19th  of  Jury  were  just  coming 
up.  On  the  10th  of  August  I  transplanted  the  two  other  rows  at 
mid-day,  and,  in  consequence  of  such  dry  weather,  the  tops  all 
died  ;  but,  in  a  few  days,  began  to  look  green.  And,  in  a  few 
weeks,  those  that  had  been  transplanted  looked  as  thrifty  as  those 
that  had  been  sown. 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


252.  On  the  10th  of  August  I  regulated  the  sown  rows,  and  left 
the  plants  standing  from  six  to  twelve  inches  apart. 

253.  A  part  of  the  seed  I  received  from  you,  and  a  part  I  had 
from  France  a  few  years  ago.  When  I  gathered  the  crop,  the 
transplanted  turnips  were  nearly  as  large  as  those  that  stood  where 
they  were  sown. 

254.  The  following  is  the  produce  :  Two  hundred  and  two 
bushels  on  sixty-five  rod  of  ground  :  a  crop  arising  from  a  mode  of 
cultivation  for  which,  Sir,  I  feel  very  much  indebted  to  you. 
This  crop,  as  you  will  perceive,  wants  but  two  bushels  and  a 
fraction  of  five  hundred  bushels  to  the  acre  :  and  I  verily  believe, 
that,  on  this  mode  of  cultivation,  an  acre  of  land,  which  will 
bring  a  hundred  bushels  of  corn  ears,  will  produce  from  seven  to 
eight  hundred  bushels  of  the  Ruta  Baga  Turnip. 

255.  Great  numbers  of  my  turnips  weigh  six  pounds  each. 
The  greens  were  almost  wholly  destroyed  by  a  caterpillar,  which  I 
never  before  saw  ;  so  that  I  had  no  opportunity  of  trying  the  use 
of  them  as  cattle-food  ;  but,  as  to  the  root,  cattle  and  hogs  eat  it 
greedily,  and  cattle  as  well  as  hogs  eat  up  the  little  bits  that  remain 
attached  to  the  fibres,  when  these  are  cut  from  the  bulbs. 

256.  I  am  now  selling  these  turnips  at  half  a  dollar  a  bushel. 

257.  With  begging  you  to  accept  of  my  thanks  for  the  useful 
information,  which,  in  common  with  many  others,  I  have  received 
from  your  Treatise  on  this  valuable  plant, 

I  remain, 

Dear  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient  servant, 

Singleton  Mitchell. 
To  Mr.  William  Cobbett, 
Hyde  Park. 

258.  P.S.  I  am  very  anxious  to  see  the  Second  Part  of  your 
Year's  Residence.     When  will  it  be  published  ? 


ANSWER. 

Hyde  Park,  gth  Dec.  1818. 
Dear  Sir, 

259.  Your  letter  has  given  me  very  great  pleasure.  You  have 
really  tried  the  thing  :  you  have  given  it  a  fair  trial.  Mr.  Tull, 
when  people  said  of  his  horse-hoing  system,  that  they  had  tried 
it,  and  found  it  not  to  answer,  used  to  reply  :  "  What  have  they 
tried  ?  all  lies  in  the  little  word  IT." 

260.  You  have  really  tried  it  :  and  very  interesting  your  account 
is.  It  13  a  complete  answer  to  all  those,  who  talk  about  loss  of 
ground  from  four-feet  ridges  ;  and  especially  when  we  compare 
your  crop  with  that  of  Mr.  James  Byrd,  of  Flushing  ;  whose 
ground  was  prepared  at  an  early  season  ;   who  manured  richly  ; 

119 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


who  kept  his  land  like  a  neat  garden  ;  and,  in  short,  whose  field 
was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  objects  of  which  one  can  form  an 
idea  ;  but,  whose  ridges  were  about  two  feet  and  a  half  apart, 
instead  of  four  feet,  and  who  had  three  hundred  and  fifty  bushels 
to  the  acre,  while  you,  with  all  your  disadvantages  of  late  ploughing 
and  sods  beneath,  had  at  the  rate  of  five  hundred  bushels. 

261.  From  so  excellent  a  judge  as  you  are,  to  hear  commendation 
of  my  little  Treatise,  must  naturally  be  very  pleasing  to  me,  as 
it  is  a  proof  that  I  have  not  enjoyed  the  protection  of  America 
without  doing  something  for  it  in  return.  Your  example  will  be 
followed  by  thousands  ;  a  new  and  copious  source  of  human 
sustenance  will  be  opened  to  a  race  of  free  and  happy  people  ; 
and  to  have  been,  though  in  the  smallest  degree,  instrumental 
in  the  creating  of  this  source,  will  always  be  a  subject  of  great 
satisfaction,  to, 

Dear  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient, 

And  most  humble  servant, 

Wm.  Cobbett. 

262.  P.S.  I  shall  to-morrow  send  the  Second  Part  of  my 
Year's  Residence  to  the  press.  I  dare  say  it  will  be  ready  in  three 
weeks. 


263.  I  conclude  this  chapter  by  observing,  that  a  borough- 
monger  hireling,  who  was  actually  fed  with  pap,  purchased  by 
money  paid  to  his  father  by  the  minister  Pitt,  for  writing  and 
publishing  lies  against  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Duke  of  York, 
the  acknowledgment  of  the  facts  relating  to  which  transaction 
/  saw  in  the  father's  ovm  hand-writing  :  this  hireling,  when  he 
heard  of  my  arrival  on  Long  Island,  called  in  my  Lemnos,  which 
allusion  will,  I  hope,  prove  not  to  have  been  wholly  inapt  ;  for, 
though  my  life  is  precisely  the  reverse  of  that  of  the  unhappy 
Philoctetes,  and  though  I  do  not  hold  the  arrows  of  Hercules, 
I  do  possess  arrows  :  I  make  them  felt  too  at  a  great  distance, 
and,  I  am  not  certain,  that  my  arrows  are  not  destined  to  be  the 
only  means  of  destroying  the  Trojan  Boroughmongers. 

264.  Having  introduced  a  Judge  here  by  name,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  say,  for  the  information  of  my  English  readers,  what  sort 
of  persons  these  Long-Island  Judges  are.  They  are,  some  of 
them,  Resident  Judges,  and  others  Circuit  Judges.  They  are  all 
gentlemen  of  known  independent  fortune,  and  of  known  excellent 
characters  and  understanding.  They  receive  a  mere  acknowledg- 
ment for  their  services  ;  and  they  are,  in  all  respects,  liberal 
gentlemen.  Those  with  whom  I  have  the  honour  to  be  acquainted 
have  fine  and  most  beautiful  estates  ;  and  I  am  very  sure,  that 
what  each  actually  expends  in  acts  of  hospitality  and  benevolence 
surpasses  what  such  a  man  as  Burrough,  or  Richards,  or  Bailey, 
or  Gibbs,  or,  indeed,  any  of  the  set,  expends  upon  every  thing, 


SWEDISH  TURNIPS 


except  taxes.  Mr.  Judge  Laurence,  who  came  to  invite  me  to 
his  house  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  my  landing  on  the  Island,  keeps 
a  house  such  as  I  never  either  saw  or  heard  of  before.  My  son 
James  went  v/ith  a  message  to  him  a  little  while  ago,  and,  as  he 
shot  his  way  along,  he  was  in  his  shooting  dress.  He  found  a 
whole  house  full  of  company,  amongst  whom  were  the  celebrated 
Dr.  Mitchell  and  Mr.  Clinton,  the  Governor  of  this  state  ; 
but,  they  made  him  stay  and  dine.  Here  was  he,  a  boy,  with  his 
rough,  shooting  dress  on,  dining  with  Judges,  Sheriffs,  and 
Generals,  and  with  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  a  Commonwealth 
more  extensive,  more  populous,  and  forty  times  as  rich  as  Scot- 
land ;  a  Chief  Magistrate  of  very  great  talents,  but  in  whom  empty 
pride  forms  no  ingredient.  Big  wigs  and  long  robes  and  super- 
cilious airs,  are  necessary  only  when  the  object  is  to  deceive  and 
overawe  the  people.  I'll  engage  that  to  supply  Judge  Laurence's 
house  that  one  week  required  a  greater  sacrifice  of  animal  life  than 
merciful  Gibb's  kitchen  demands  in  a  year  :  but,  then,  our  hearty 
and  liberal  neighbour  never  deals  in  human  sacrifices. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

POTATOES. 

265.  I  have  made  no  experiments  as  to  this  root,  and  I  am  now 
about  to  offer  my  opinions  as  to  the  mode  of  cultivating  it.  But, 
so  much  has  been  said  and  written  against  me  on  account  of  my 
scouting  the  idea  of  this  root  being  proper  as  food  for  man,  I  will, 
out  of  respect  for  public  opinion,  here  state  my  reasons  for  thinking 
that  the  Potatoe  is  a  root,  worse  than  useless. 

266.  When  I  published  some  articles  upon  this  subject,  in 
England,  I  was  attacked  by  the  Irish  writers  with  as  much  fury  as 
the  Newfoundlanders  attack  people  who  speak  against  the  Pope  ; 
and  with  a  great  deal  less  reason  ;  for,  to  attack  a  system,  which 
teaches  people  to  fill  their  bellies  with  fish  for  the  good  of  their 
souls,  might  appear  to  be  dictated  by  malice  against  the  sellers  of 
the  fish  ;  whereas,  my  attack  upon  Potatoes,  was  no  attack  upon 
the  sons  of  St.  Patrick,  to  whom,  on  the  contrary,  I  wished  a 
better  sort  of  diet  to  be  afforded.  Nevertheless,  I  was  told,  in 
the  Irish  papers,  not  that  I  was  a  fool ;  that  might  have  been 
rational  :  but,  when  I  was,  by  these  zealous  Hibernians,  called  a 
liar,  a  slanderer,  a  viper,  and  was  reminded  of  all  my  political 
sins,  I  could  not  help  thinking  that,  to  use  an  Irish  Peeress's 
expression  with  regard  to  her  Lord,  there  was  a  little  of  the 
Potatoe  sprouting  out  of  their  head. 

267.  These  rude  attacks  upon  me  even  were  all  nameless,  how- 
ever ;  and,  with  nameless  adversaries  I  do  not  like  to  join  battle. 
Of  one  thing  I  am  very  glad  ;  and  that  is,  that  the  Irish  do  not  like 
to  live  upon  what  their  accomplished  countryman  Doctor 
Drennan,  calls  "  Ireland's  lazy  root.'*  There  is  more  sound 
political  philosophy  in  that  poem  than  in  all  the  enormous  piles 
of  Plowden  and  Musgrave.  When  I  called  it  a  lazy  root  :  when 
I  satyrized  the  use  of  it  ;  the  Irish  seemed  to  think,  that  their 
national  honour  was  touched.  But,  I  am  happy  to  find,  that  it  is 
not  taste,  but  necessity,  which  makes  them  mess-mates  with  the 
pig  ;  for  when  they  come  to  this  country  ;  they  invariably  prefer 
to  their  "favourite  root,"  not  only  fowls,  geese,  ducks  and  turkeys, 
but  even  the  flesh  of  oxen,  pigs  and  sheep  ! 

268.  In  1 8 15, 1  wrote  an  article,  which  I  will  here  insert,  because 
it  contains  my  opinions  upon  this  subject.     And  when  I  have 

122 


POTATOES 

done  that,  I  will  add  some  calculations  as  to  the  comparative  value 
of  an  acre  of  wheat  and  an  acre  of  potatoes.  The  article  was  a 
letter  to  the  Editor  of  the  Agricultural  Magazine  :  and  was  in  the 
following  words. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Agricultural  Magazine. 
Sir, 

269.  In  an  article  of  your  Magazine  for  the  month  of  September 
last,  on  the  subject  of  my  Letters  to  Lord  Sheffield,  an  article  with 
which,  upon  the  whole,  I  have  reason  to  be  very  proud,  you 
express  your  dissent  with  me  upon  some  matters,  and  particularly 
relative  to  potatoes.  The  passage  to  which  I  allude,  is  in  these 
words  :  "  As  to  a  former  diatribe  of  his  on  Potatoes,  we  regarded 
"it  as  a  pleasant  example  of  argument  for  argument's  sake  ; 
"  as  an  agreeable  jumble  of  truth  and  of  mental  rambling." 

270.  Now,  Sir,  I  do  assure  you,  that  I  never  was  more  serious 
in  my  life,  than  when  I  wrote  the  essay,  or,  rather,  casually  made 
the  observations  against  the  cultivation  and  use  of  this  worse  than 
useless  root.  If  it  was  argument  for  argument's  sake,  no  one, 
that  I  can  recollect,  ever  did  me  the  honour  to  show  that  the 
argument  was  fallacious.  I  think  it  a  subject  of  great  importance;  I 
regard  the  praises  of  this  root  and  the  preference  given  to  it  before 
corn,  and  even  some  other  roots,  to  have  arisen  from  a  sort  of 
monkey-like  imitation.  It  has  become,  of  late  years,  the  fashion 
to  extol  the  virtues  of  potatoes,  as  it  has  been  to  admire  the  writings 
of  Milton  and  Shakespear.  God,  almighty  and  all  fore-seeing, 
first  permitting  his  chief  angel  to  be  disposed  to  rebel  against  him  ; 
his  permitting  him  to  enlist  whole  squadrons  of  angels  under  his 
banners  ;  his  permitting  this  host  to  come  and  dispute  with  him 
the  throne  of  heaven  ;  his  permitting  the  contest  to  be  long,  and, 
at  one  time,  doubtful  ;  his  permitting  the  devils  to  bring  cannon 
into  this  battle  in  the  clouds  ;  his  permitting  one  devil  or  angel,  I 
forget  which,  to  be  split  down  the  middle,  from  crown  to  crotch, 
as  we  split  a  pig  ;  his  permitting  the  two  halves,  intestines  and  all, 
to  go  slap,  up  together  again,  and  become  a  perfect  body  ;  his, 
then,  causing  all  the  devil  host  to  be  tumbled  head-long  down  into 
a  place  called  Hell,  of  the  local  situation  of  which  no  man  can  have 
an  idea  :  his  causing  gates  (iron  gates  too)  to  be  erected  to  keep 
the  devil  in  ;  his  permitting  him  to  get  out,  nevertheless,  and  to 
come  and  destroy  the  peace  and  happiness  of  his  new  creation  ; 
his  causing  his  son  to  take  a  pair  of  compasses  out  of  a  drawer, 
to  trace  the  form  of  the  earth  :  all  this,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  of 
Milton's  poem,  is  such  barbarous  trash,  so  outrageously  offensive  to 
reason  and  to  common  sense,  that  one  is  naturally  led  to  wonder 
how  it  can  have  been  tolerated  by  a  people,  amongst  whom  as- 
tronomy,  navigation,    and   chemistry   are   understood.     But,   it 

123 


POTATOES 


is  the  fashion  to  turn  up  the  eyes,  when  Paradise  Lost  is  mentioned  ; 
and,  if  you  fail  herein  you  want  taste  :  you  want  judgment  even,  if 
you  do  not  admire  this  absurd  and  ridiculous  stuff,  when,  if  one 
of  your  relations  were  to  write  a  letter  in  the  same  strain,  you 
would  send  him  to  a  mad-house  and  take  his  estate.  It  is  the 
sacrificing  of  reason  to  fashion.  And  as  to  the  other  "  Divine 
Bard,"  the  case  is  still  more  provoking.  After  his  ghosts,  witches, 
sorcerers,  fairies,  and  monsters  ;  after  his  bombast  and  puns  and 
smut,  which  appear  to  have  been  not  much  relished  by  his  com- 
paratively rude  contemporaries,  had  had  their  full  swing  :  after 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds  had  been  expended,  upon  embellishing 
his  works  :  after  numerous  commentators  and  engravers  and 
painters  and  booksellers  had  got  fat  upon  the  trade  ;  after  jubilees 
had  been  held  in  honour  of  his  memory  ;  at  a  time  when  there 
were  men,  otherwise  of  apparently  good  sense,  who  were  what  was 
aptly  enough  termed  Shakespear-mad.  At  this  very  moment  an 
occurrence  took  place,  which  must  have  put  an  end,  for  ever,  to 
this  national  folly,  had  it  not  been  kept  up  by  infatuation  and 
obstinacy  without  parallel.  Young  Ireland,  I  think  his  name 
was  William,  no  matter  from  what  motive,  though  I  never  could  see 
any  harm  in  his  motive,  and  have  always  thought  him  a  man  most 
unjustly  and  brutally  used.  No  matter,  however,  what  were  the 
inducing  circumstances,  or  the  motives,  he  did  write,  and  bring 
forth,  as  being  Shakespear's,  some  plays,  a  prayer,  and  a  love- 
letter.  The  learned  men  of  England,  Ireland  and  Scotland  met 
to  examine  these  performances.  Some  doubted,  a  few  denied  : 
but,  the  far  greater  part,  amongst  whom  were  Dr.  Parr,  Dr. 
Wharton,  and  Mr.  George  Chalmers,  declared,  in  the  most 
positive  terms,  that  no  man  but  Shakespear  could  have  written 
those  things.  There  was  a  division  :  but  this  division  arose  more 
from  a  suspicion  of  some  trick,  than  from  any  thing  to  be  urged 
against  the  merit  of  the  writings.  The  plays  went  so  far  as  to  be 
ACTED.  Long  lists  of  subscribers  appeared  to  the  work. 
And,  in  short,  it  was  decided,  in  the  most  unequivocal  manner, 
that  this  young  man  of  sixteen  years  of  age  had  written  so  nearly  like 
Shakespear ,  that  a  majority  of  the  learned  and  critical  classes  of 
the  nation  most  firmly  believed  the  writings  to  be  Shakespear's  ; 
there  cannot  be  a  doubt,  that  if  Mr.  Ireland  had  been  able  to  keep 
his  secret,  they  would  have  passed  for  Shakespear's  'till  the  time 
shall  come  when  the  whole  heap  of  trash  will,  by  the  natural 
good  sense  of  the  nation,  be  consigned  to  everlasting  oblivion  ; 
and,  indeed,  as  folly  ever  doats  on  a  darling,  it  is  very  likely,  that 
these  last  found  productions  of  "  our  immortal  bard  "  would  have 
be&n  regarded  as  his  best.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  this  ;  in  spite  of 
what  one  would  have  thought  was  sufficient  to  make  blind  people 
see,  the  fashion  has  been  kept  up  ;  and,  what  excites  something 
more  than  ridicule  and  contempt,  Mr.  Ireland,  whose  writings 
had  been  taken  for  Shakespear's,  was,  when  he  made  the  discovery, 
treated  as  an  impostor  and  a  cheat,  and  hunted  down  with  as  much 

124 


POTATOES 

rancour  as  if  he  had  written  against  the  buying  and  selling  of  seats 
in  Parliament.  The  learned  men  ;  the  sage  critics  :  the  Shake- 
spear-mad  folks  :  were  all  so  ashamed,  that  they  endeavoured  to 
draw  the  public  attention  from  themselves  to  the  young  man. 
It  was  of  his  impositions  that  they  now  talked,  and  not  of  their 
own  folly.  When  the  witty  clown,  mentioned  in  Don  Quixote, 
put  the  nuncio's  audience  to  shame  by  pulling  the  real  pig  out  from 
under  his  cloak,  we  do  not  find  that  that  audience  were,  like  our 
learned  men,  so  unjust  as  to  pursue  him  with  reproaches  and  with 
every  act  that  a  vindictive  mind  can  suggest.  They  perceived 
how  foolish  they  had  been,  they  hung  down  their  heads  in  silence, 
and,  I  dare  say,  would  not  easily  be  led  to  admire  the  mounte- 
bank again. 

271.  It  is  fashion,  Sir,  to  which  in  these  most  striking  instances, 
sense  and  reason  have  yielded  ;  and  it  is  to  fashion  that  the  potatoe 
owes  its  general  cultivation  and  use.  If  you  ask  me  whether 
fashion  can  possibly  make  a  nation  prefer  one  sort  of  diet  to 
another,  I  ask  you  what  it  is  that  can  make  a  nation  admire 
Shakespear  ?  What  is  it  that  can  make  them  call  him  a  "  Divine 
Bard,"  nine-tenths  of  whose  works  are  made  up  of  such  trash  as 
no  decent  man,  now-a-days,  would  not  be  ashamed,  and  even 
afraid,  to  put  his  name  to  ?  What  can  make  an  audience  in 
London  sit  and  hear,  and  even  applaud,  under  the  name  of 
Shakespear,  what  they  would  hoot  off  the  stage  in  a  moment, 
if  it  came  forth  under  any  other  name  ?  When  folly  has  once 
given  the  fashion  she  is  a  very  persevering  dame.  An  American 
writer,  whose  name  is  George  Dorsey,  I  believe,  and  who  has 
recently  published  a  pamphlet,  called,  "  The  United  States  and 
"  England,  &c."  being  a  reply  to  an  attack  on  the  morals  and 
government  and  learning  of  the  Americans,  in  the  "  Quarterly 
Review,"  states,  as  matter  of  justification,  that  the  People  of 
America  sigh  with  delight  to  see  the  plays  of  Shakespear,  whom 
they  claim  as  their  countryman  :  an  honour,  if  it  be  disputed,  of 
which  I  will  make  any  of  them  a  voluntary  surrender  of  my  share. 
Now,  Sir,  what  can  induce  the  American  to  sit  and  hear  with 
delight  the  dialogues  of  Falstaff  and  Poins,  and  Dame  Quickely 
and  Doll  Tearsheet  ?  What  can  restrain  them  from  pelting 
Parson  Hugh,  Justice  Shallow,  Bardolph,  and  the  whole  crew  off 
the  stage  ?  What  can  make  them  endure  a  ghost  cap-d-pie,  a 
prince,  who,  for  justice  sake,  pursues  his  uncle  and  his  mother, 
and  who  stabs  an  old  gentleman  in  sport,  and  cries  out  "  dead  for 
a  ducat  !  dead  !  "  What  can  they  find  to  "  delight  "  them  in 
punning  clowns,  in  ranting  heroes,  in  sorcerers,  ghosts,  witches, 
fairies,  monsters,  sooth-sayers,  dreamers  ;  in  incidents  out  of 
nature,  in  scenes  most  unnecessarily  bloody.  How  they  must  be 
delighted  at  the  story  of  Lear  putting  the  question  to  his  daughters 
of  which  loved  him  most,  and  then  dividing  his  kingdom  among 
them,  according  to  their  professions  of  love  :  how  delighted  to  see 
the  fantastical  disguise  of  Edgar,  the  treading  out  Gloucester's 
k  125 


POTATOES 


eyes,  and  the  trick  by  which  it  is  pretended  he  was  made  to  believe, 
that  he  had  actually  fallen  from  the  top  of  the  cliff !  How  they 
must  be  delighted  to  see  the  stage  filled  with  green  boughs,  like  a 
coppice,  as  in  Macbeth,  or  streaming  like  a  slaughter-house,  as 
in  Titus  Andronicus  1  How  the  young  girls  in  America  must  be 
tickled  with  delight  at  the  dialogues  in  Troilus  and  Cressida,  and 
more  especially  at  the  pretty  observations  of  the  Nurse,  I  think  it 
is,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet  !  But,  it  is  the  same  all  through  the  work. 
I  know  of  one  other,  and  only  one  other,  book,  so  obscene  as  this  ; 
and,  if  I  were  to  judge  from  the  high  favour  in  which  these  two 
books  seem  to  stand,  I  should  conclude,  that  wild  and  improbable 
fiction,  bad  principles  of  morality  and  politicks,  obscurity  in 
meaning,  bombastical  language,  forced  jokes,  puns,  and  smut, 
were  fitted  to  the  minds  of  the  people.  But  I  do  not  thus  judge. 
It  is  fashion.  These  books  are  in  fashion.  Every  one  is  ashamed 
not  to  be  in  the  fashion.  It  is  the  fashion  to  extol  potatoes,  and 
to  eat  potatoes.  Every  one  joins  in  extolling  potatoes,  and  all 
the  world  like  potatoes,  or  pretend  to  like  them,  which  is  the  same 
thing  in  effect. 

272.  In  those  memorable  years  of  wisdom,  1800  and  1801, 
you  can  remember,  I  dare  say,  the  grave  discussions  in  Parliament 
about  potatoes.  It  was  proposed  by  some  one  to  make  a  law  to 
encourage  the  growth  of  them  ;  and,  if  the  Bill  did  not  pass,  it 
was,  I  believe,  owing  to  the  ridicule  which  Mr.  Home  Tooke 
threw  upon  that  whole  system  of  petty  legislation.  Will  it  be 
believed,  in  another  century,  that  the  law-givers  of  a  great  nation 
actually  passed  a  law  to  compel  people  to  eat  pollard  in  their 
bread,  and  that,  too,  not  for  the  purpose  of  degrading  or  punishing, 
but  for  the  purpose  of  doing  the  said  people  good  by  adding  to 
the  quantity  of  bread  in  a  time  of  scarcity  ?  Will  this  be  believed  ? 
In  every  bushel  of  wheat  there  is  a  certain  proportion  of  flour, 
suited  to  the  appetite  and  the  stomach  of  man  ;  and  a  certain 
proportion  of  pollard  and  bran,  suited  to  the  appetite  and  stomach 
of  pigs,  cows,  and  sheep.  But  the  parliament  of  the  years  of 
wisdom  wished  to  cram  the  whole  down  the  throat  of  man,  together 
with  the  flour  of  other  grain.  And  what  was  to  become  of  the 
pigs,  cows,  and  sheep  ?  Whence  were  the  pork,  butter,  and 
mutton  to  come  ?  And  were  not  these  articles  of  human  food  as 
well  as  bread  ?  The  truth  is,  that  pollard,  bran,  and  the  coarser 
kinds  of  grain,  when  given  to  cattle,  make  these  cattle  fat  ;  but 
when  eaten  by  man  make  him  lean  and  weak.  And  yet  this  bill 
actually  became  a  law  ! 

273.  That  period  of  wisdom  was  also  the  period  of  the  potatoe- 
mania.  Bulk  was  the  only  thing  sought  after  ;  and,  it  is  a  real 
fact,  that  Pitt  did  suggest  the  making  of  beer  out  of  straw.  Bulk 
was  all  that  was  looked  after.  If  the  scarcity  had  continued  a  year 
longer,  I  should  not  have  been  at  all  surprized,  if  it  had  been 
proposed  to  feed  the  people  at  rack  and  manger.  But,  the 
Potatoe  !     Oh  !     What  a  blessing  to  man  !     Lord  Grenville, 

126 


POTATOES 


at  a  birthday  dinner  given  to  the  foreign  ambassadors,  used  not  a 
morsel  of  bread,  but,  instead  of  it,  little  potatoe  cakes,  though  he 
had,  I  dard  say,  a  plenty  of  lamb,  poultry,  pig,  &c.  All  of  which 
had  been  fatted  upon  corn  or  meal,  in  whole  or  in  part.  Yes, 
Sir,  potatoes  will  do  very  well  along  with  plenty  of  animal  food, 
which  has  been  fatted  on  something  better  than  potatoes.  But, 
when  you  and  I  talk  of  the  use  of  them,  we  must  consider  them  in 
a  very  different  light. 

274.  The  notion  is,  that  potatoes  are  cheaper  than  wheat  flour. 
This  word  cheap  is  not  quite  expressive  enough,  but  it  will  do  for 
our  present  purpose.  I  shall  consider  the  cost  of  potatoes,  in  a 
family,  compared  with  that  of  flour.  It  will  be  best  to  take  the 
simple  case  of  the  labouring  man. 

275.  The  price  of  a  bushel  of  fine  flour,  at  Botley,  is,  at  this  time, 
10s.  The  weight  is  56  lbs.  The  price  of  a  bushel  of  potatoes 
is  2s.  6d.  They  are  just  now  dug  up,  and  are  at  the  cheapest. 
A  bushel  of  potatoes  which  are  measured  by  a  large  bushel, 
weighs  about  60  lbs.  dirt  and  all,  for  they  are  sold  unwashed, 
Allow  4  lbs.  for  dirt,  and  the  weights  are  equal.  Well,  then,  here 
is  toiling  Dick  with  his  four  bushels  of  potatoes,  and  John  with 
his  bushel  of  flour.  But,  to  be  fair,  I  must  allow,  that  the  relative 
price  is  not  always  so  much  in  favour  of  flour.  Yet,  I  think  you 
will  agree  with  me,  that  upon  an  average,  five  bushels  of  potatoes 
do  cost  as  much  as  one  bushel  of  flour.  You  know  very  well, 
that  potatoes  in  London,  sell  for  id.  and  sometimes  for  2d.  a 
pound  ;  that  is  to  say,  sometimes  for  1/.  7s.  6d.  and  sometimes  for 
zl.  15s.  the  five  bushels.  This  is  notorious.  Every  reader  knows 
it.  And  did  you  ever  hear  of  a  bushel  of  flour  selling  for  2/.  15s. 
Monstrous  to  think  of !  And  yet  the  tradesman's  wife,  looking 
narrowly  to  every  halfpenny,  trudges  away  to  the  potatoe  shop 
to  get  five  or  six  pounds  of  this  wretched  root  for  the  purpose  of 
saving  flour  !  She  goes  and  gives  lod.  for  ten  pounds  of  potatoes, 
when  she  might  buy  five  pounds  of  flour  with  the  same  money  ! 
Before  her  potatoes  come  to  the  table,  they  are,  even  in  bulk. 
less  than  5  lbs.  or  even  3  lbs.  of  flour  made  into  a  pudding.  Try 
the  experiment  yourself,  Sir,  and  you  will  soon  be  able  to  appreciate 
the  economy  of  this  dame. 

276.  But,  to  return  to  Dick  and  John  ;  the  former  has  got  his 
five  bushels  of  potatoes,  and  the  latter  his  bushel  of  flour.  I 
shall,  by  and  by,  have  to  observe  upon  the  stock  that  Dick  must 
lay  in,  and  upon  the  stowage  that  he  must  have  ;  but,  at  present, 
we  will  trace  these  two  commodities  in  their  way  to  the  mouth 
and  in  their  effects  upon  those  who  eat  them.  Dick  has  got  five 
bushels  at  once,  because  he  could  have  them  a  little  cheaper. 
John  may  have  his  Peck  or  Gallon  of  flour  :  for  that  has  a  fixed 
and  indiscriminating  price.  It  requires  no  trick  in  dealing,  no 
judgment,  as  in  the  case  of  the  roots,  which  may  be  wet,  or  hollow, 
or  hot  :  flour  may  be  sent  for  by  any  child  able  to  carry  the 
quantity  wanted.     However,  reckoning  Dick's  trouble  and  time 

127 


POTATOES 


nothing  in  getting  home  his  five  bushels  of  potatoes,  and  supposing 
him  to  have  got  the  right  sort,  a  "  fine  sort,"  which  he  can  hardly 
fail  of,  indeed,  since  the  whole  nation  is  now  full  of  "  fine  sort," 
let  us  now  see  how  he  goes  to  work  to  consume  them.  He  has  a 
piece  of  bacon  upon  the  rack,  but  he  must  have  some  potatoes 
too.  On  goes  the  pot ,  but  there  it  may  as  well  hang,  for  we  shall 
find  it  in  continual  requisition.  For  this  time  the  meat  and 
roots  boil  together.%  But,  what  is  Dick  to  have  for  supper  ? 
Bread  ?  No.  He  shall  not  have  bread,  unless  he  will  have 
bread  for  dinner.  Put  on  the  Pot  again  for  supper.  Up  an  hour 
before  day  light  and  on  with  the  pot.  Fill  your  luncheon-bag, 
Dick  :  nothing  is  so  relishing  and  so  strengthening  out  in  the 
harvest-field,  or  ploughing  on  a  bleak  hill  in  winter,  as  a  cold 
potatoe.  But,  be  sure,  Dick,  to  wrap  your  bag  well  up  in  your 
clothes,  during  winter,  or,  when  you  come  to  lunch,  you  may, 
to  your  great  surprise,  find  your  food  transformed  into  pebbles. 
Home  goes  merry  Dick,  and  on  goes  the  pot  again.  Thus  1095 
times  in  the  year  Dick's  pot  must  boil.  This  is,  at  least,  a  thousand 
times  oftener  than  with  a  bread  and  meat  diet.  Once  a  week 
baking  and  once  a  week  boiling,  is  as  much  as  a  farm  house  used 
to  require.  There  must  be  some  fuel  consumed  in  winter  for 
warmth.  But  here  are,  at  the  least,  500  fires  to  be  made  for  the 
sake  of  these  potatoes,  and,  at  a  penny  a  fire,  the  amount  is  more 
than  would  purchase  four  bushels  of  flour,  which  would  make 
288  lbs.  of  bread,  which  at  7  lbs.  of  bread  a  day,  would  keep 
John's  family  in  bread  for  41  days  out  of  the  365.  This  I  state 
as  a  fact  challenging  contradiction,  that,  exclusive  of  the  extra 
labour,  occasioned  by  the  cookery  of  potatoes,  the  fuel  required 
in  a  year,  for  a  bread  diet,  would  cost,  in  any  part  of  the  kingdom 
more  than  would  keep  a  family,  even  in  baker's  bread  for  41  days 
in  the  year,  at  the  rate  of  71  lbs.  of  bread  a  day. 

277.  John,  on  the  contrary,  lies  and  sleeps  on  Sunday  morning 
'till  about  7  o'clock.  He  then  gets  a  bit  of  bread  and  meat,  or 
cheese,  if  he  has  either.  The  mill  gives  him  his  bushel  of  flour 
in  a  few  minutes.  His  wife  has  baked  during  the  week.  He 
has  a  pudding  on  Sunday,  and  another  batch  of  bread,  before  the 
next  Sunday.  The  moment  he  is  up,  he  is  off  to  his  stable,  or 
the  field,  or  the  coppice.  His  breakfast  and  luncheon  are  in  his 
bag.  In  spite  of  frost  he  finds  them  safe  and  sound.  They  give 
him  heart,  and  enable  him  to  go  through  the  day.  His  56  lbs. 
of  flour,  with  the  aid  of  2d.  in  yeast,  bring  him  72  lbs.  of  bread  ; 
while,  after  the  dirt  and  peelings  and  waste  are  deducted,  it  is  a 
very  doubtful  whether  Dick's  300  lbs.  of  potatoes  bring  200  lbs. 
of  even  this  watery  diet  to  his  lips.  It  is  notorious,  that  in  a 
pound  of  clean  potatoes  there  are  11  ounces  of  water,  half  an 
ounce  of  earthy  matter,  an  ounce  of  fibrous  and  strawey  stuff, 
and  I  know  not  what  besides.  The  water  can  do  Dick  no  good, 
but  he  must  swallow  these  1 1  ounces  of  water  in  every  pound  of 
potatoes.      How   far  earth   and  straw  may   tend    to   fatten   or 


POTATOES 

strengthen  cunning  Dick,  I  do  not  know  ;  but,  at  any  rate,  it  is 
certain,  that,  while  he  is  eating  as  much  of  potatoe  as  is  equal  in 
nutriment  to  i  lb.  of  bread,  he  must  swallow  about  14  oz.  of  water, 
earth,  straw,  &c.  for,  down  they  must  go  altogether,  like  the 
Parliament's  bread  in  the  years  of  wisdom,  1800  and  1801.  But, 
suppose  every  pound  of  potatoes  to  bring  into  Dick's  stomach 
a  6th  part  in  nutritious  matter,  including  in  the  gross  pound  all 
the  dirt,  eyes,  peeling,  and  other  inevitable  waste.  Divide  his 
gross  300  lbs.  by  6,  and  you  will  find  him  50  lbs.  of  nutritious 
matter  for  the  same  sum  that  John  has  laid  out  in  72  lbs.  of 
nutritious  matter,  besides  the  price  of  288  lbs.  of  bread  in  a  year, 
which  Dick  lays  out  in  extra  fuel  for  the  eternal  boilings  of  his 
pot.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  his  cheeks  are  like  two  bits  of  loose 
leather,  while  he  is  pot-bellied,  and  weak  as  a  cat  ?  In  order  to 
get  half  a  pound  of  nutritious  matter  into  him,  he  must  swallow 
about  50  ounces  of  water,  earth,  and  straw.  Without  ruminating 
faculties  how  is  he  to  bear  this  cramming  ? 

278.  But,  Dick's  disadvantages  do  not  stop  here.  He  must 
lay  in  his  store  at  the  beginning  of  winter,  or  he  must  buy  through 
the  nose.  And,  where  is  he  to  find  stowage  ?  He  has  no  caves. 
He  may  pie  them  in  the  garden,  if  he  has  one  ;  but,  he  must  not 
open  the  pie  in.  frosty  weather.  It  is  a  fact  not  to  be  disputed, 
that  a  full  tenth  of  the  potatoe  crop  is  destroyed,  upon  an  average 
of  years,  by  the  frost.  His  wife,  or  stout  daughter,  cannot  go  out 
to  work  to  help  to  earn  the  means  of  buying  potatoes.  She  must 
stay  at  home  to  boil  the  pot ,  the  everlasting  pot !  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  cold  dinner.  No  such  thing  as  women  sitting  down  on 
a  hay-cock,  or  a  shock  of  wheat,  to  their  dinner,  ready  to  jump 
up  at  the  approach  of  the  shower.  Home  they  must  tramp,  if 
it  be  three  miles,  to  the  fire  that  ceaseth  not,  and  the  pot  as  black 
as  Satan.  No  wonder,  that  in  the  brightest  and  busiest  seasons 
of  the  year,  you  see  from  every  cottage  door,  staring  out  at  you, 
as  you  pass,  a  smoky-capped,  greasy-heeled  woman.  The  pot, 
which  keeps  her  at  home,  also  gives  her  the  colour  of  the  chimney, 
while  long  inactivity  swells  her  heels. 

279.  Now,  Sir,  I  am  quite  serious  in  these  my  reasons  against 
the  use  of  this  root,  as  food  for  man.  As  food  for  other  animals, 
in  proportion  to  its  cost,  I  know  it  to  be  the  worst  of  all  roots  that 
I  know  any  thing  of  ;  but,  that  is  another  question.  I  have  here 
been  speaking  of  it  as  food  for  man  ;  and,  if  it  be  more  expensive 
than  flour  to  the  labourer  in  the  country,  who,  at  any  rate,  can 
stow  it  in  pies,  what  must  it  be  to  tradesman's  and  artizan's 
families  in  towns,  who  can  lay  in  no  store,  and  who  must  buy 
by  the  ten  pound  or  quarter  of  a  hundred  at  a  time  ?  When 
broad-faced  Mrs.  Wilkins  tells  Mrs.  Tomkins,  that,  so  that  she 
has  "  a  potatoe  "  for  her  dinner,  she  does  not  care  a  farthing  for 
bread,  I  only  laugh,  knowing  that  she  will  twist  down  a  half  pound 
of  beef  with  her  "  potatoe,"  and  has  twisted  down  half  a  pound 
of  buttered  toast  in  the  morning,  and  means  to  do  the  same  at 

129 


POTATOES 


tea  time  without  prejudice  to  her  supper  and  grog.  But  when 
Mrs.  Tomkins  gravely  answers,  "  yes,  Ma'am,  there  is  nothing 
"  like  a  potatoe  ;  it  is  such  a  saving  in  a  family,"  I  really  should 
not  be  very  much  out  of  humour  to  see  the  tete-a-tete  broken  up 
by  the  application  of  a  broom-stick. 

280.  However,  Sir,  I  am  talking  to  you  now,  and,  as  I  am  not 
aware  that  there  can  be  any  impropriety  in  it,  I  now  call  upon  you 
to  show,  that  I  am  really  wrong  in  my  notions  upon  this  subject 
and  this,  I  think  you  are,  in  some  sort  bound  to  do,  seeing  that  you 
have,  in  a  public  manner,  condemned  them. 

281.  But,  there  remains  a  very  important  part  of  the  subject 
yet  undiscussed.  For,  though  you  should  be  satisfied,  that  300 
lbs.  of  potatoes  are  not,  taking  every  thing  into  consideration, 
more  than  equal  to  about  30  lbs.  of  flour,  you  may  be  of  opinion, 
that  the  disproportion  in  the  bulk  of  the  crops  is,  in  favour  of 
potatoes,  more  than  sufficient  to  compensate  for  this.  I  think 
this  is  already  clearly  enough  settled  by  the  relative  prices  of  the 
contending  commodities  ;  for,  if  the  quantity  of  produce  was  on 
the  side  of  potatoes,  their  price  would  be  in  proportion. 

282.  I  have  heard  of  enormous  crops  of  potatoes  ;  as  high,  I 
believe,  as  10  tons  grow  upon  an  acre.  I  have  heard  of  14  sacks 
of  wheat  upon  an  acre.  I  never  saw  above  10  grow  upon  an  acre. 
The  average  crop  of  wheat  is  about  24  bushels,  in  this  part  of 
England,  and  the  average  crop  of  potatoes  about  6  tons.  The 
weight  of  the  wheat  1,440  lbs.  and  that  of  the  potatoes  13,440 
lbs.  Now,  then,  if  I  am  right  in  what  has  been  said  above,  this 
bulk  of  potatoes  barely  keeps  place  with  that  of  the  wheat  ;  for, 
if  a  bushel  of  wheat  does  not  make  56  lbs.  of  flour,  it  weighs  60 
lbs.  and  leaves  pollard  and  bran  to  make  up  the  deficiency.  Then, 
as  to  the  cost  ;  the  ground  must  be  equally  good.  The  seed  is 
equally  expensive.  But  the  potatoes  must  be  cultivated  during 
their  growth.  The  expense  of  digging  and  cartage  and  stowage 
is  not  less  than  2/.  an  acre  at  present  prices.  The  expense  of 
reaping,  housing,  and  threshing  is,  at  present  prices,  105.  less. 
The  potatoes  leave  no  straw,  the  wheat  leaves  straw,  stubble,  and 
gleanings  for  pigs.  The  straw  is  worth,  at  least  3/.  an  acre,  at 
present  prices.  It  is,  besides,  absolutely  necessary.  It  litters,  in 
conjunction  with  other  straw,  all  sorts  of  cattle  ;  it  sometimes 
helps  to  feed  them  ;  it  covers  half  the  buildings  in  the  kingdom  ; 
and  makes  no  small  part  of  the  people's  beds.  The  potatoe  is 
a  robber  in  all  manner  of  ways.  It  largely  takes  from  the  farm- 
yard, and  returns  little  or  nothing  to  it ;  it  robs  the  land  more 
than  any  other  plant  or  root,  it  robs  the  eaters  of  their  time,  their 
fuel,  and  their  health  ;  and,  I  agree  fully  with  Monsieur  Tissot, 
that  it  robs  them  of  their  mental  powers. 

283.  I  do  not  deny,  that  it  is  a  pleasant  enough  thing  to  assist 
in  sending  down  lusty  Mrs.  Wilkins's  good  half-pound  of  fat 
roast-beef.  Two  or  three  ounces  of  water,  earth,  and  straw, 
can  do  her  no  harm  ;    but,  when  I  see  a  poor,  little,  pale-faced, 

130 


POTATOES 

life-less,  pot-bellied  boy  peeping  out  at  a  cottage  door,  where  I 
ought  to  meet  with  health  and  vigour,  I  cannot  help  cursing  the 
fashion,  which  has  given  such  general  use  to  this  root,  as  food  for 
man.  However,  I  must  say,  that  the  chief  ground  of  my  antipathy 
to  this  root  is,  that  it  tends  to  debase  the  common  people,  as  every 
thing  does,  which  brings  their  mode  of  living  to  be  nearer  that  of 
cattle.  The  man  and  his  pig,  in  the  potatoe  system,  live  pretty 
much  upon  the  same  diet,  and  eat  nearly  in  the  same  manner,  and 
out  of  nearly  the  same  utensil.  The  same  eternally-boiling  pot 
cooks  their  common  mess.  Man,  being  master,  sits  at  the  first 
table  ;  but,  if  his  fellow-feeder  comes  after  him,  he  will  not  fatten, 
though  he  will  live  upon  the  same  diet.  Mr.  Curwen  found 
potatoes  to  supply  the  place  of  hay,  being  first  well  cooked  :  but, 
they  did  not  supply  the  place  of  oats  ;  and  yet  fashion  has  made 
people  believe,  that  they  are  capable  of  supplying  the  place  of 
bread  !  It  is  notorious,  that  nothing  will  fatten  on  potatoes  alone 
Carrots,  parsnips,  cabbages,  will,  in  time,  fatten  sheep  and  oxen, 
and,  some  of  them,  pigs  ;  but,  upon  potatoes  alone,  no  animal  that 
I  ever  heard  of  will  fatten.  And  yet,  the  greater  part,  and, 
indeed,  all  the  other  roots  and  plants  here  mentioned,  will  yield, 
upon  ground  of  the  same  quality,  three  or  four  times  as  heavy  a 
crop  as  potatoes,  and  will,  too,  for  a  long  while,  set  the  frosts  at 
defiance. 

284.  If,  Sir,  you  do  me  the  honour  to  read  this  latter,  I  shall 
have  taken  up  a  good  deal  of  your  time  ;  but  the  subject  is  one  of 
much  importance  in  rural  economy,  and  therefore,  cannot  be 
wholly  uninteresting  to  you.  I  will  not  assume  the  sham  modesty 
to  suppose,  that  my  manner  of  treating  it  makes  me  unworthy 
of  an  answer  ;  and,  I  must  confess,  that  I  shall  be  disappointed 
unless  you  make  a  serious  attempt  to  prove  to  me,  that  I  am  in 
error. 

I  am,  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient, 

And  most  humble  Servant, 

Wm.  Cobbett. 


285.  Now,  observe,  I  never  received  any  answer  to  this.  Much 
abuse.  New  torrents  of  abuse  :  and,  in  language  still  more 
venomous  than  the  former  ;  for  now  the  Milton  and  Shakespear 
men,  the  critical  Parsons,  took  up  the  pen  ;  and,  when  you  have 
an  angry  Priest  for  adversary,  it  is  not  the  common  viper,  but  the 
rattle-snake  that  you  have  to  guard  against.  However,  as  no 
one  put  his  name  to  what  he  wrote,  my  remarks  went  on  producing 
their  effect  ;  and  a  very  considerable  effect  they  had. 

286.  About  the  same  time  Mr.  Timothy  Brown  of  Peckham 
Lodge,  who  is  one  of  the  most  understanding  and  most  worthy 
men  I  ever  had  the  honour  to  be  acquainted  with,  furnished  me 

131 


POTATOES 

with  the  following  comparative  estimate  relative  to  wheat  and 
potatoes. 

PRODUCE    OF   AN   ACRE   OF   WHEAT. 

287.  Forty  bushels  is  a  good  crop  ;   but  from  fifty  to  sixty  may 
be  grown. 

Pounds  of  Wheat. 
40  bushels  60  pounds  a  bushel         .  .  .     2,400 


45  £  pounds  of  flour  to  each  bushel  of  wheat     1 ,820 
13  pounds  of  offal  to  each  bushel     .  .        520 

Waste.         .  .  .  .  .60 


2,400 


The  worth  of  offal  is  about  that  of  one  bushel 
of  flour  ;  and  the  worth  of  straw,  2  tons, 
each  worth  2/.  is  equal  to  six  bushels  of 
flour        .  .  .  .  31J 


Pounds  of  Flour. 
So  that  the  total  yield  in  flour  is       .  .  .       2,139 


Pounds  of  Bread. 

Which  will  make  of  bread  at  the  rate  of  9 

pounds  of  bread  from  7  pounds  of  flour  .      2,739^ 


PRODUCE  OF  AN  ACRE  OF  POTATOES. 

288.  Seven  tons,  or  350  bushels,  is  a  good  crop  ;   but  ten  tons, 
or  500  bushels  may  be  grown. 

Pounds  of  Potatoes . 
Ten  tons,  or  ....  .    22,400 


Pounds  of  Flour . 
Ten  pounds  of  Potatoes  contain  one  pound  of  flour         2,240 


Pounds  of  Bread. 
Which  would,  if  it  were  possible  to  extract  the  flour  and 

get  it  in  a  dry  state,  make  of  bread  .  .      2,880 

132 


POTATOES 

289.  Thus,  then,  the  nutritious  contents  of  the  Potatoes  surpasses 
that  of  the  wheat  but  by  a  few  pounds  ;  but  to  get  at  those  con- 
tents, unaccompanied  with  nine  times  their  weight  in  earth,  straw, 
and  water,  is  impossible.  Nine  pounds  of  earth,  straw  and  water 
must,  then,  be  swallowed,  in  order  to  get  at  the  one  pound  of 
flour  ! 

290.  I  beg  to  be  understood  as  saying  nothing  against  the 
cultivation  of  potatoes  in  any  place,  or  near  any  place  where  there 
are  people  willing  to  consume  them  at  half  a  dollar  a  bushel, 
when  wheat  is  tzvo  dollars  a  bushel.  If  any  one  will  buy  dirt  to 
eat,  and  if  one  can  get  dirt  to  him  with  more  profit  than  one  can 
get  wheat  to  him,  let  us  supply  him  with  dirt  by  all  means.  It 
is  his  taste  to  eat  dirt  ;  and,  if  his  taste  have  nothing  immoral  in 
it,  let  him,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  ridiculous,  follow  his  taste. 
I  know  a  prime  Minister,  who  picks  his  nose  and  regales  himself 
with  the  contents.  I  solemnly  declare  this  to  be  true.  I  have 
witnessed  the  worse  than  beastly  act  scores  of  times  ;  and  yet 
I  do  not  know,  that  he  is  much  more  of  a  beast  than  the  greater 
part  of  his  associates.  Yet,  if  this  were  all  :  if  he  were  chargeable 
with  nothing  but  this  ;  if  he  would  confine  his  swallow  to  this,  I 
do  not  know  that  the  nation  would  have  any  right  to  interfere 
between  his  nostrils  and  his  gullet. 

291.  Nor  do  I  say,  that  it  is  filthy  to  eat  potatoes.  I  do  not 
ridicule  the  using  of  them  as  sauce.  What  I  laugh  at  is,  the  idea 
of  the  use  of  them  being  a  saving  :  of  their  going  further  than 
bread  ;  of  the  cultivation  of  them  in  lieu  of  wheat  adding  to  the 
human  sustenance  of  a  country.  This  is  what  I  laugh  at  ;  and 
laugh  I  must  as  long  as  I  have  the  above  estimate  before  me. 

292.  As  food  for  cattle,  sheep  or  hogs,  this  is  the  worst  of  all  the 
green  and  root  crops  ;  but,  of  this  I  have  said  enough  before  ; 
and  therefore,  /  now  dismiss  the  Potatoe  with  the  hope,  that  I 
shall  never  again  have  to  write  the  word,  or  to  see  the 


i33 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

COWS,  SHEEP,  HOGS,  AND  POULTRY. 

293.  Cows. — With  respect  to  cows,  need  we  any  other  facts 
than  those  of  Mr.  Byrd  to  prove  how  advantageous  the  Swedish 
turnip  culture  must  be  to  those  who  keep  cows  in  order  to  make 
butter  and  cheese.  The  greens  come  to  supply  the  place  of  grass, 
and  to  add  a  month  to  the  feeding  on  green  food.  They  come 
just  at  the  time  when  cows,  in  this  country,  are  let  go  dry.  It  is 
too  hard  work  to  squeeze  butter  out  of  straw  and  corn  stalks  ; 
and,  if  you  could  get  it  out,  it  would  not,  pound  for  pound,  be 
nearly  so  good  as  lard,  though  it  would  be  full  as  white.  To  give 
cows  fine  hay  no  man  thinks  of  ;  and,  therefore,  dry  they  must  be 
from  November  until  March,  though  a  good  piece  of  cabbages 
added  to  the  turnip  greens  would  keep  them  on  in  milk  to  their 
calving  time  ;  or,  'till  within  a  month  of  it  at  any  rate.  The  bulbs 
of  Swedish  turnips  are  too  valuable  to  give  to  cows  ;  but  the 
cabbages,  which  are  so  easily  raised,  may  be  made  subservient 
to  their  use. 

294.  Sheep. — In  the  First  Part  I  have  said  how  I  fed  my  sheep 
upon  Swedish  turnips.  I  have  now  only  to  add,  that,  in  the  case 
of  early  lambs  for  market,  cabbages,  and  especially  savoys,  in 
February  and  March,  would  be  excellent  for  the  ewes.  Sheep 
love  green.  In  a  turnip  field,  they  never  touch  the  bulb,  till  every 
bit  of  green  is  eaten.  I  would,  therefore,  for  this  purpose,  have 
some  cabbages,  and,  if  possible,  of  the  savoy  kind. 

295.  Hogs. — This  is  the  main  object,  when  we  talk  of  raising 
green  and  root  crops,  no  matter  how  near  to  or  how  far  from  the 
spot  where  the  produce  of  the  farm  is  to  be  consumed.  For, 
pound  for  pound,  the  hog  is  the  most  valuable  animal  ;  and, 
whether  fresh  or  salted,  is  the  most  easily  conveyed.  Swedish 
turnips  or  cabbages  or  Mangel  Wurzel  will  fatten  an  ox  :  but, 
that  which  would,  in  four  or  five  months  fatten  the  ox,  would  keep 
fifteen  August  Pigs  from  the  grass  going  to  the  grass  coming, 
on  Long  Island.  Look  at  their  worth  in  June,  and  compare  it 
with  the  few  dollars  that  you  have  got  by  fatting  the  ox  ;  and  look 
also  at  the  manure  in  the  two  cases.  A  farmer,  on  this  Island 
fatted  two  oxen  last  winter  upon  corn.  He  told  me,  after  he  had 
sold  them,  that,  if  he  had  given  the  oxen  away,  and  sold  the  corn, 

134 


COWS,  SHEEP,  ETC. 


he  should  have  had  more  money  in  his  pocket.  But,  if  he  had 
kept,  through  the  winter,  four  or  five  summer  pigs  upon  this  corn, 
would  they  have  eaten  all  his  corn  to  no  purpose  ?  I  am  aware, 
that  pigs  get  something  at  an  ox-stable  door  ;  but,  what  a  process 
is  this  ! 

296.  My  hogs  are  now  living  wholly  upon  Swedish  turnip  greens, 
and,  though  I  have  taken  no  particular  pains  about  the  matter, 
they  look  very  well,  and,  for  store  hogs  and  sows,  are  as  fat  as  I 
wish  them  to  be.  My  English  hogs  are  sleek,  and  fit  for  fresh 
pork  :  and  all  the  hogs  not  only  eat  the  greens  but  do  well  upon 
them.  But,  observe,  I  give  them  plenty  three  times  a  day.  In 
the  forenoon  we  get  a  good  waggon  load,  and  that  is  for  three 
meals.  This  is  a  main  thing,  this  plenty  :  and,  the  farmer  must 
see  to  it  with  his  OWN  EYES  ;  for,  workmen  are  all  starvers, 
except  of  themselves.  I  never  had  a  man  in  my  life,  who  would 
not  starve  a  hog,  if  I  would  let  him  ;  that  is  to  say,  if  the  food  was 
to  be  got  by  some  labour.  You  must,  therefore,  see  to  this  : 
or,  you  do  not  try  the  thing  at  all. 

297.  Turnip  greens  are,  however,  by  no  means  equal  to 
cabbages,  or  even  to  cabbage  leaves.  The  cabbage,  and  even  the 
leaf,  is  the  fruit  of  the  plant  ;  which  is  not  the  case  with  the  Turnip 
green.  Therefore  the  latter  must,  especially  when  they  follow 
summer  cabbages,  be  given  in  greater  proportionate  quantities. 

298.  As  to  the  bulb  of  the  Swedish  turnip,  I  have  said  enough, 
in  the  First  Part,  as  food  for  hogs  ;  and  I  should  not  have  men- 
tioned the  matter  again,  had  I  not  been  visited  by  two  gentlemen, 
who  came  on  purpose  (from  a  great  distance)  to  see,  whether  hogs 
really  would  eat  Swedish  turnips  !  Let  not  the  English  farmers 
laugh  at  this  ;  let  them  not  imagine,  that  the  American  farmers 
are  a  set  of  simpletons  on  this  account :  for,  only  about  thirty 
years  ago,  the  English  farmers  would  not,  indeed,  have  gone  a 
great  distance  to  ascertain  the  fact,  but  would  have  said  at  once, 
that  the  thing  was  false.  It  is  not  more  than  about  four  hundred 
years  since  the  Londoners  were  wholly  supplied  with  cabbages, 
spinage,  turnips,  carrots,  and  all  sorts  of  garden  stuff  from  Flanders. 
And  now,  I  suppose,  that  one  single  parish  in  Kent  grows  more 
garden  stuff  than  all  Flanders.  The  first  settlers  came  to 
America  long  and  long  before  even  the  white  turnip  made  its 
appearance  in  the  fields  in  England.  The  successors  of  the  first 
settlers  trod  in  the  foot-steps  of  their  fathers.  The  communica- 
tion with  England  did  not  bring  out  good  English  farmers .  Books 
made  little  impression  unaccompanied  with  actual  experiments 
on  the  spot.  It  was  reserved  for  the  Boroughmongers,  armed 
with  gags,  halters,  and  axes,  to  drive  from  England  experience 
and  public  spirit  sufficient  to  introduce  the  culture  of  the  green 
and  root  crops  to  the  fields  of  America. 

299.  The  first  gentleman,  who  came  to  see  whether  hogs  would 
eat  Swedish  turnips  saw  some  turnips  tossed  down  on  the  grass 
to  the  hogs,  which  were  eating  sweet  little  loaved   cabbages. 

135 


COWS,  SHEEP,  ETC. 


However,  they  eat  the  turnips  too  before  they  left  off.  The  second 
who  came  on  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  saw  the  hogs  eat  some 
bulbs  chopped  up.  The  hogs  were  pretty  hungry,  and  the 
quantity  of  turnips  small,  and  there  was  such  a  shoving  and 
pushing  about  amongst  the  hogs  to  snap  up  the  bits,  that  the 
gentleman  observed,  that  they  "  liked  them  as  well  as  corn." 

300.  In  paragraph  134  I  related  a  fact  of  a  neighbour  of  mine  in 
Hampshire  having  given  his  Swedish  turnips,  after  they  had  borne 
seed,  to  some  lean  pigs,  and  had,  with  that  food,  made  them  fit 
for  fresh  pork,  and  sold  them  as  such.  A  gentleman  from  South 
Carolina  was  here  in  July  last,  and  I  brought  some  of  mine  which 
had  then  borne  seed.  They  were  perfectly  sound.  The  hogs  ate 
them  as  well  as  if  they  had  not  borne  seed.  We  boiled  some  in 
the  kitchen  for  dinner  ;  and  they  appeared  as  good  as  those  eaten 
in  the  winter.     This  shews  clearly  how  well  this  root  keeps. 

301.  Now,  these  facts  being,  I  hope,  undoubted,  is  it  not  sur- 
prising, that,  in  many  parts  of  this  fine  country,  it  is  the  rule  to 
keep  only  one  pig  for  every  cow  !  The  cow  seems  as  necessary 
to  the  pig  as  the  pig's  mouth  is  necessary  to  his  carcass.  There 
are,  for  instance,  six  cows  ;  therefore,  when  they  begin  to  give 
milk  in  the  spring,  six  pigs  are  set  on  upon  the  milk,  which  is 
given  them  with  a  suitable  proportion  of  pot  liquor  (a  meat  pot) 
and  of  rye,  or  Indian,  meal,  making  a  diet  far  superior  to  that  of 
the  families  of  labouring  men  in  England.  Thus  the  pigs  go  on 
'till  the  time  when  the  cows  (for  want  of  moist  food)  become  dry. 
Then  the  pigs  are  shut  up,  and  have  the  new  sweet  Indian  corn 
heaped  into  their  stye  till  they  are  quite  fat,  being  half  fat,  mind, 
all  the  summer  long,  as  they  run  barking  and  capering  about. 
Sometimes  they  turn  sulky,  however,  and  will  not  eat  enough  of 
the  corn  ;  and  well  they  may,  seeing  that  they  are  deprived  of 
their  milk.  Take  a  child  from  its  pap  all  at  once,  and  you  will  find, 
that  it  will  not,  for  a  long  while,  relish  its  new  diet.  What  a 
system  !  but  if  it  must  be  persevered  in,  there  might,  it  appears 
to  me,  be  a  great  improvement  made  even  in  it  ;  for,  the  labour 
of  milking  and  of  the  subsequent  operations,  all  being  performed 
by  women,  is  of  great  inconvenience.  Better  let  each  pig  suck 
its  adopted  mother  at  once,  which  would  save  a  .monstrous  deal 
of  labour,  and  prevent  all  possibility  of  waste.  There  would  be 
no  slopping  about  ;  and,  which  is  a  prime  consideration  in  a  dairy 
system,  there  would  be  clean  milking  :  for,  it  has  been  proved  by 
Doctor  Anderson,  that  the  last  drop  is  fourteen  times  as  good  as 
the  first  drop  ;  and,  I  will  engage,  that  the  grunting  child  of  the 
lowing  mother  would  have  that  last  drop  twenty  times  a  day,  or 
would  pull  the  udder  from  her  body.  I  can  imagine  but  one 
difficulty  that  can  present  itself  to  the  mind  of  any  one  disposed 
to  adopt  this  improvement ;  and  that  is,  the  teaching  of  the  pig 
to  suck  the  cow.  This  will  appear  a  difficulty  to  those  only  who 
think  unjustly  of  the  understandings  of  pigs  :  and,  for  their 
encouragement,  I  beg  leave  to  refer  them  to  Daniel's   Rural 

136 


COWS,  SHEEP,  ETC. 


Sports,  where  they  will  find,  that,  in  Hampshire,  Sir  John 
Mildmay's  gamekeeper,  Toomer,  taught  a  sow  to  point  at 
partridges  and  other  game  ;  to  quarter  her  ground  like  a  pointer, 
to  back  the  pointers,  when  she  hunted  with  them,  and  to  be,  in 
all  respects,  the  most  docile  pointer  of  the  finest  nose.  This 
fact  is  true  beyond  all  doubt.  It  is  known  to  many  men  now 
alive.  Judge,  then,  how  easily  a  pig  might  be  taught  to  milk  a 
cow,  and  what  a  "  saving  of  labour  "  this  would  produce  ! 

302.  It  is  strange  what  comfort  men  derive  even  fgom  the 
deceptions  which  they  practice  upon  themselves.  The  milk 
and  fat  pot-liquor  and  meal  are,  when  put  together,  called,  in 
Long  Island,  swill.  The  word  comes  from  the  farm-houses  in 
England,  but  it  has  a  new  meaning  attached  to  it.  There  it  means 
the  mere  wash  :  the  mere  drink  given  to  store  hogs.  But,  here 
it  means  rich  fatting  food.  "  There,  friend  Cobbett,"  said  a 
gentleman  to  me,  as  we  looked  at  his  pigs,  in  September  last, 
"  do  thy  English  pigs  look  better  than  these  ?  "  "  No,"  said 
I,  "  but  what  do  these  live  on?  "  He  said  he  had  given  them  all 
summer,  "  nothing  but  swill."  "  Aye,"  said  I,  "  but  what  is 
"  swill  ?  "  It  was,  for  six  pigs,  nothing  at  all,  except  the  milk  of 
six  very  fine  cows,  with  a  bin  of  shorts  and  meal  always  in  requisition, 
and  with  the  daily  supply  of  liquor  from  a  pot  and  a  spit,  that  boils 
and  turns  without  counting  the  cost. 

303.  This  is  very  well  for  those  who  do  not  care  a  straw,  whether 
their  pork  cost  them  seven  cents  a  pound  or  half  a  dollar  a  pound  ; 
and,  I  like  to  see  even  the  waste  :  because  it  is  a  proof  of  the  easy 
and  happy  life  of  the  farmer.  But,  when  we  are  talking  of 
profitable  agriculture,  we  must  examine  this  swill  tub,  and  see 
what  it  contains.  To  keep  pigs  to  a  profit,  you  must  carry  them 
on  to  their  fatting  time  at  little  expence.  Milk  comes  from  all  the 
grass  you  grow  and  almost  the  whole  of  the  dry  fodder.  Five 
or  six  cows  will  sweep  a  pretty  good  farm  as  clean  as  the  turnpike 
road.  Pigs,  till  well  weaned  must  be  kept  upon  good  food.  My 
pigs  will  always  be  fit  to  go  out  of  the  weaning  stye  at  three  months 
old.  The  common  pigs  require  four  months.  Then  out  they  go 
never  to  be  fed  again,  except  on  grass,  greens,  or  roots,  till  they 
arrive  at  the  age  to  be  fattened.  If  they  will  not  keep  themselves 
in  growing  order  upon  this  food,  it  is  better  to  shoot  them  at  once. 
But,  I  never  yet  saw  a  hog  that  would  not.  The  difference 
between  the  good  sort  and  the  bad  sort,  is,  that  the  former  will 
always  be  fat  enough  for  fresh  pork,  and  the  latter  will  not ;  and 
that,  in  the  fatting,  the  former  will  not  require  (weight  for  weight 
of  animal)  more  than  half  the  food  that  the  latter  will  to  make  them 
equally  fat. 

304.  Out  of  the  milk  and  meal  system  another  monstrous  evil 
arises.  It  is  seldom  that  the  hogs  come  to  a  proper  age  before  they 
are  killed.  A  hog  has  not  got  his  growth  till  he  is  full  two  years 
old.  But,  who  will,  or  can,  have  the  patience  to  see  a  hog  eating 
Long-Island  swill  for  two  years  ?     When  a  hog  is  only  15  or  16 

137 


CO  TVS,  SHEEP,  ETC. 


months  old,  he  will  lay  on  two  pounds  of  fat  for  every  one  pound 
that  will,  out  of  the  same  quantity  of  food,  be  laid  on  by  an  eight 
or  ten  months'  pig.  Is  it  not  thus  with  every  animal  ?  A  stout 
boy  will  be  like  a  herring  upon  the  very  food  that  would  make 
his  father  fat,  or  kill  him.  However,  this  fact  is  too  notorious 
to  be  insisted  on. 

305.  Then,  the  young  meat  is  not  so  nutritious  as  the  old. 
Steer-beef  is  not  nearly  so  good  as  ox-beef.  Young  wethef 
mutton  bears  the  same  proportion  of  inferiority  to  old  wether 
mutton.  And,  what  reason  is  there,  that  the  principle  should 
not  hold  good  as  to  hog-meat  ?  In  Westphalia,  where  the  fine 
hams  are  made,  the  hogs  are  never  killed  under  three  years  old. 
In  France*  where  I  saw  the  fattest  pork  I  ever  saw,  they  keep 
their  fatting  hogs  to  the  same  age.  In  France  and  Germany,  the 
people  do  not  eat  the  hog,  as  hog  ;  they  use  the  hog  to  put  fat 
into  other  sorts  of  meat.  They  make  holes  in  beef,  mutton,  veal, 
turkeys  and  fowls,  and,  with  a  tin  tube,  draw  in  bits  of  fat  hog, 
which  they  call  lard,  and,  as  it  is  all  fat,  hence  comes  it  that  we 
call  the  inside  fat  of  a  hog,  lard.  Their  beef  and  mutton  and 
veal  would  be  very  poor  stuff  without  the  aid  of  the  hog  ;  but, 
with  that  aid,  they  make  them  all  exceedingly  good.  Hence  it 
is,  that  they  are  induced  to  keep  their  hogs  till  they  have  quite 
done  growing  :  and,  though  their  sort  of  hogs  is  the  very  worst 
I  ever  saw,  their  hog  meat  was  the  very  fattest.  The  common 
weight  in  Normandy  and  Brittany  is  from  six  to  eight  hundred 
pounds.  But,  the  poor  fellows  there  do  not  slaughter  away  as  the 
farmers  do  here,  ten  or  a  dozen  hogs  at  a  time,  so  that  the  sight 
makes  one  wonder  whence  are  to  come  the  mouths  to  eat  the  meat. 
In  France  du  lard  is  a  thing  to  smell  to,  not  to  eat.  I  like  the  eating 
far  better  than  the  smelling  system  ;  but  when  we  are  talking 
about  farming  for  gain,  we  ought  to  inquire  how  any  given  weight 
of  meat  can  be  obtained  at  the  cheapest  rate.  A  hog  in  his  third 
year,  would,  on  the  American  plan,  suck  half  a  dairy  of  cows 
perhaps  ;  but,  then,  mind,  he  would,  upon  a  third  part  of  the 
fatting  food,  weigh  down  four  Long  Island  "  shuts,"  the  average 
weight  of  which  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds. 

306.  A  hog,  upon  rich  food,  will  be  much  bigger  at  the  end  of  a 
year,  than  a  hog  upon  good  growing  diet  :  but,  he  will  not  be  bigger 
at  the  end  of  two  years,  and  especially  at  the  end  of  three  years. 
His  size  is  not  to  be  forced  on,  any  more  than  that  of  a  child, 
beyond  a  certain  point. 

307.  For  these  reasons,  if  I  were  settled  as  a  farmer,  I  would  let 
my  hogs  have  time  to  come  to  their  size.  Some  sorts  come  to  it 
at  an  earlier  period,  and  this  is  amongst  the  good  qualities  of  my 
English  hogs  ;  but,  to  do  the  thing  well,  even  they  ought  to  have 
two  years  to  grow  in. 

308.  The  reader  will  think  that  I  shall  never  cease  talking  about 
hogs  :  but,  I  have  now  done,  only  I  will  add,  that,  in  keeping  hogs 
in  a  growing  state,  we  must  never  forget  their  lodging  !      A  few 

138 


COWS,  SHEEP,  ETC. 


boards,  flung  carelessly  over  a  couple  of  rails,  and  no  litter  beneath, 
is  not  the  sort  of  bed  for  a  hog.  A  place  of  suitable  size,  large 
rather  than  small,  well  sheltered  on  every  side,  covered  with  a 
roof  that  lets  in  no  wet  or  snow.  No  opening,  except  a  door- 
way big  enough  for  a  hog  to  go  in  ;  and  the  floor  constantly  well 
bedded  with  leaves  of  trees,  dry,  or,  which  is  the  best  thing,  and 
what  a  hog  deserves,  plenty  of  clean  straw.  When  I  make  up  my 
hogs'  lodging  place  for  winter,  I  look  well  at  it,  and  consider, 
whether,  upon  a  pinch,  I  could,  for  once  and  away,  make  shift  to 
lodge  in  it  myself.  If  I  shiver  at  the  thought,  the  place  is  not  good 
enough  for  my  hogs.  It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  a  hog  to  sleep  in 
the  cold.  Look  at  them.  You  will  see  them,  if  they  have  the 
means,  cover  themselves  over  for  the  night.  This  is  what  is  done 
by  neither  horse,  cow,  sheep,  dog  nor  cat.  And  this  should 
admonish  us  to  provide  hogs  with  warm  and  comfortable  lodging. 
Their  sagacity  in  providing  against  cold  in  the  night,  when  they 
have  it  in  their  power  to  make  such  provision,  is  quite  wonderful. 
You  see  them  looking  about  for  the  warmest  spot  :  then  they 
go  to  work,  raking  up  the  litter  so  as  to  break  the  wind  off  ;  and 
when  they  have  done  their  best,  they  lie  down.  I  had  a  sow  that 
had  some  pigs  running  about  with  her  in  April  last.  There  was 
a  place  open  to  her  on  each  side  of  the  barn.  One  faced  the  east 
and  the  other  the  west  ;  and,  I  observed,  that  she  sometimes  took 
to  one  side  and  sometimes  to  the  other.  One  evening  her  pigs 
had  gone  to  bed  on  the  east  side.  She  was  out  eating  till  it  began 
to  grow  dusk.  I  saw  her  go  into  her  pigs,  and  was  surprised  to 
see  her  come  out  again  ;  and  therefore,  looked  a  little  to  see  what 
she  was  after.  There  was  a  high  heap  of  dung  in  the  front  of 
the  barn  to  the  south.  She  walked  up  to  the  top  of  it,  raised  her 
nose,  turned  it  very  slowly,  two  or  three  times,  from  the  north- 
east to  the  north-west,  and  back  again,  and  at  last,  it  settled  at 
about  south-east,  for  a  little  bit.  She  then  came  back,  marched 
away  very  hastily  to  her  pigs,  roused  them  up  in  a  great  bustle, 
and  away  she  trampled  with  them  at  her  heels  to  the  place  on  the 
west  side  of  the  barn.  There  was  so  little  wind,  that  I  could  not 
tell  which  way  it  blew,  till  I  took  up  some  leaves,  and  tossed  them 
in  the  air.  I  then  found,  that  it  came  from  the  precise  point 
which  her  nose  had  settled  at.  And  thus  was  I  convinced,  that 
she  had  come  out  to  ascertain  which  way  the  wind  came,  and, 
finding  it  likely  to  make  her  young  ones  cold  in  the  night,  she  had 
gone  and  called  them  up,  though  it  was  nearly  dark,  and  taken 
them  off  to  a  more  comfortable  berth.  Was  this  an  instinctive, 
or  was  it  a  reasoning  proceeding  ?  At  any  rate,  let  us  not  treat 
such  animals  as  if  they  were  stocks  and  stones. 

309.     Poultry. — I    merely    mean    to  observe,  as  to  poultry, 

that  they  must  be  kept  away  from  turnips  and  cabbages,  especially 

i  n  the  early  part  of  the  growth  of  these  plants.     When  turnips 

re  an  inch  or  two  high  a  good  large  flock  of  turkeys  will  destroy 

an  acre  in  half  a  day,  in  four  feet  rows.     Ducks  and  geese  will  do 

139 


CO  TVS,  SHEEP,  ETC, 


the  same.  Fowls  will  do  great  mischief.  If  these  things  cannot 
be  kept  out  of  the  field,  the  crop  must  be  abandoned,  or  the 
poultry  killed.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  it  is  only  near  the  house 
that  poultry  plague  you  much  :  but,  it  is  equally  true,  that  the 
best  and  richest  land  is  precisely  that  which  is  near  the  house, 
and  this,  on  every  account,  whether  of  produce  or  application, 
is  the  very  land  where  you  ought  to  have  these  crops. 


140 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PRICES   OF   LAND,   LABOUR,   FOOD   AND   RAIMENT. 

310.  Land  is  of  various  prices,  of  course.  But,  as  I  am,  in  this 
Chapter,  addressing  myself  to  English  Farmers,  I  am  not  speaking 
of  the  price  either  of  land  in  the  wildernesses,  or  of  land  in  the 
immediate  vicinage  of  great  cities.  The  wilderness  price  is  two 
or  three  dollars  an  acre  :  the  city  price  four  or  five  hundred.  The 
land  at  the  same  distance  from  New  York  that  Chelsea  is  from 
London,  is  of  higher  price  than  the  land  at  Chelsea.  The 
surprizing  growth  of  these  cities,  and  the  brilliant  prospect  before 
them,  give  value  to  every  thing  that  is  situated  in  or  near  them. 

311.  It  is  my  intention,  however,  to  speak  only  of  farming  land. 
This,  too,  is,  of  course,  affected  in  its  value  by  the  circumstance 
of  distance  from  market  ;  but,  the  reader  will  make  his  own 
calculations  as  to  this  matter.  A  farm,  then,  on  this  Island,  any- 
where not  nearer  than  thirty  miles  of,  and  not  more  distant  than 
sixty  miles  from,  New  York,  with  a  good  farm-house,  barn, 
stables,  sheds,  and  styes  ;  the  land  fenced  into  fields  with  posts 
and  rails,  the  wood-land  being  in  the  proportion  of  one  to  ten  of 
the  arable  land,  and  there  being  on  the  farm  a  pretty  good  orchard  ; 
such  a  farm,  if  the  land  be  in  a  good  state,  and  of  an  average 
quality,  is  worth  sixty  dollars  an  acre,  or  thirteen  pounds  sterling  : 
of  course,  a  farm  of  a  hundred  acres  would  cost  one  thousand 
three  hundred  pounds.  The  rich  lands  on  the  necks  and  bays, 
where  there  are  meadows  and  surprizingly  productive  orchards, 
and  where  there  is  water  carriage,  are  worth,  in  some  cases,  three 
times  this  price.  But,  what  I  have  said  will  be  sufficient  to  enable 
the  reader  to  form  a  pretty  correct  judgment  on  the  subject.  In 
New  Jersey,  in  Pennsylvania,  every  where  the  price  differs  with 
the  circumstances  of  water  carriage,  quality  of  land,  and  distance 
from  market. 

312.  When  I  say  a  good  farm-house,  I  mean  a  house  a  great 
deal  better  than  the  general  run  of  farm-houses  in  England .  More 
neatly  finished  on  the  inside.  More  in  a  parlour  sort  of  style; 
though  round  about  the  house,  things  do  not  look  so  neat  and  tight 
as  in  England.  Even  in  Pennsylvania,  and  amongst  the  Quakers 
too,  there  is  a  sort  of  out-of-doors  slovenliness,  which  is  never 
hardly  seen  in  England.     You  see  bits  of  wood,  timber,  boards,. 

L  141 


PRICES  OF  LAND,  LABOUR, 

lying  about,  here  and  there,  and  pigs  and  cattle  trampling  about 
in  a  sort  of  confusion,  which  would  make  an  English  farmer  fret 
himself  to  death  ;  but  which  is  here  seen  with  great  placidness. 
The  out-buildings,  except  the  barns,  and  except  in  the  finest 
counties  of  Pennsylvania,  are  not  so  numerous,  or  so  capacious, 
as  in  England,  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  farms.  The  reason 
is,  that  the  weather  is  so  dry.  Cattle  need  not  covering  a  twentieth 
part  so  much  as  in  England,  except  hogs,  who  must  be  warm  as 
well  as  dry.  However,  these  share  with  the  rest,  and  very  little 
covering  they  get. 

313.  Labour  is  the  great  article  of  expence  upon  a  farm  ;  yet 
it  is  not  nearly  so  great  as  in  England,  in  proportion  to  the  amount 
of  the  produce  of  a  farm,  especially  if  the  poor-rates  be,  in  both 
cases,  included.  However,  speaking  of  the  positive  wages,  a 
good  farm-labourer  has  twenty-five  pounds  sterling  a  year  and  his 
board  and  lodging  ;  and  a  good  day-labourer  has,  upon  an  average, 
a  dollar  a  day.  A  woman  servant,  in  a  farm-house,  has  from  forty 
to  fifty  dollars  a  year,  or  eleven  pounds  sterling.  These  are  the 
average  of  the  wages  throughout  the  country.  But,  then,  mind, 
the  farmer  has  nothing  (for,  really,  it  is  not  worth  mentioning) 
to  pa3/  in  poor-rates  :  which  in  England,  must  always  be  added  to 
the  wages  that  a  farmer  pays  ;  and,  sometimes,  they  far  exceed 
the  wages. 

314.  It  is,  too,  of  importance  to  know,  what  sort  of  labourers 
these  Americans  are  ;  for,  though  a  labourer  is  a  labourer,  still 
there  is  some  difference  in  them  ;  and,  these  Americans  are  the 
best  that  I  ever  sazu.  They  mow  four  acres  of  oats,  wheat,  rye,  or 
barley  in  a  day,  and,  with  a  cradle,  lay  it  so  smooth  in  the  swarths, 
that  it  is  tied  up  in  sheaves  with  the  greatest  neatness  and  ease. 
They  mow  two  acres  and  a  half  of  grass  in  a  day,  and  they  do  the 
work  well.  And  the  crops,  upon  an  average,  are  all,  except  the 
wheat,  as  heavy  as  in  England.  The  English  farmer  will  want 
nothing  more  than  these  facts  to  convince  him,  that  the  labour, 
after  all,  is  not  so  very  dear. 

315.  The  causes  of  these  performances,  so  far  beyond  those^in 
England,  is  first,  the  men  are  tall  and  well  built  ;  they  are  bony 
rather  than  fleshy  :  and  they  live,  as  to  food,  as  well  as  man  can 
live.  And,  secondly,  they  have  been  educated  to  do  much  in  a 
day.  The  farmer  here  generally  is  at  the  head  of  his  "  boys," 
as  they,  in  the  kind  language  of  the  country,  are  called.  Here 
is  the  best  of  examples.  My  old  and  beloved  friend,  Mr.  James 
Paul,  used,  at  the  age  of  nearly  sixty  to  go  at  the  head  of  his  mowers, 
though  his  fine  farm  was  his  own,  and  though  he  might,  in  other 
respects,  be  called  a  rich  man  ;  and,  I  have  heard,  that  Mr.  Elias 
Hicks,  the  famous  Quaker  Preacher,  who  lives  about  nine  miles 
from  this  spot,  has  this  year,  at  seventy  years  of  age,  cradled  down 
four  acres  of  rye  in  a  day.  I  wish  some  of  the  preachers  of  other 
descriptions,  especially  om  fat  parsons  in  England,  would  think 
a  little  of  this,  and  would  betake  themselves  to  "  work  with  their 

142 


FOOD  AND  RAIMENT 


"  hands  the  things  which  be  good,  that  they  may  have  to  give  to 
"  him  who  needeth,"  and  not  go  on  any  longer  gormandizing  and 
swilling  upon  the  labour  of  those  who  need. 

316.  Besides  the  great  quantity  of  work  performed  by  the 
American  labourer,  his  skill,  the  versatility  of  his  talent,  is  a  great 
thing.  Every  man  can  use  an  ax,  a  saw,  and  a  hammer.  Scarcely 
one  who  cannot  do  any  job  at  rough  carpentering,  and  mend  a 
plough  or  a  waggon.  Very  few  indeed,  who  cannot  kill  and  dress 
pigs  and  sheep,  and  many  of  them  Oxen  and  Calves.  Every 
farmer  is  a  neat  butcher  ;  a  butcher  for  market  :  and,  of  course, 
"  the  boys  "  must  learn.  This  is  a  great  convenience.  It  makes 
you  so  independent  as  to  a  main  part  of  the  means  of  housekeeping. 
All  are  ploughmen.  In  short,  a  good  labourer  here,  can  do  any 
thing  that  is  to  be  done  upon  a  farm. 

317.  The  operations  necessary  in  miniature  cultivation  they  are 
very  awkward  at.  The  gardens  are  ploughed  in  general.  An 
American  labourer  uses  a  spade  in  a  very  awkward  manner.  They 
poke  the  earth  about  as  if  they  had  no  eyes  ;  and  toil  and  muck 
themselves  half  to  death  to  dig  as  much  ground  in  a  day  as  a 
Surrey  man  would  dig  in  about  an  hour  of  hard  work.  Banking, 
hedging,  they  know  nothing  about.  They  have  no  idea  of  the  use 
of  a  bill-hook,  which  is  so  adroitly  used  in  the  coppices  of  Hamp- 
shire and  Sussex.  An  ax  is  their  tool,  and  with  that  tool,  at 
cutting  doun  trees  or  cutting  them  up,  they  will  do  ten  times  as  much 
in  a  day  as  any  other  men  that  I  ever  saw.  Set  one  of  these  men 
on  upon  a  wood  of  timber  trees,  and  his  slaughter  will  astonish 
you.  A  neighbour  of  mine  tells  a  story  of  an  Irishman,  who 
promised  he  could  do  any  thing,  and  whom,  therefore,  to  begin 
with,  the  employer  sent  into  the  wood  to  cut  down  a  load  of  wood 
to  bum.  He  staid  a  long  while  away  with  the  team,  and 'the 
farmer  went  to  him  fearing  some  accident  had  happened.  "  What 
are  you  about  all  this  time  ?  "  said  the  farmer.  The  man  was 
hacking  away  at  a  hickory  tree,  but  had  not  got  it  half  down  ; 
and  that  was  all  he  had  done.  An  American,  black  or  white, 
would  have  had  half  a  dozen  trees  cut  down,  cut  up  into  lengths, 
put  upon  the  carriage,  and  brought  home,  in  the  time. 

318.  So  that  our  men,  who  come  from  England,  must  not 
expect,  that,  in  these  common  labours  of  the  country,  they  are  to 
surpass,  or  even  equal  these  "  Yankees,"  who,  of  all  men  that  I 
ever  saw,  are  the  most  active  and  the  most  hardy.  They  skip 
over  a  fence  like  a  greyhound.  They  will  catch  you  a  pig  in  an 
open  field  by  racing  him  down  ;  and  they  are  afraid  of  nothing. 
This  was  the  sort  of  stuff  that  filled  the  frigates  of  Decatur, 
Hull,  and  Brainbridge.  No  wonder  that  they  triumphed  when 
opposed  to  poor  pressed  creatures,  worn  out  by  length  of  service 
and  ill-usage,  and  encouraged  by  no  hope  of  fair-play.  My  Lord 
Cochrane  said,  in  his  place  in  parliament,  that  it  would  be  so  ; 
and  so  it  was.  Poor  Cashman,  that  brave  Irishman,  with  his 
dying  breath,  accused  the  government   and   the    merchants   of 


M3 


PRICES  OF  LAND,  LABOUR, 

England  of  withholding  from  him  his  pittance  of  prize  money  ! 
Ought  not  such  a  vile,  robbing,  murderous  system  to  be 
destroyed  ? 

319.  Of  the  same  active,  hardy,  and  brave  stuff,  too,  was  com- 
posed the  army  of  Jackson,  who  drove  the  invaders  into  the 
Gulph  of  Mexico,  and  who  would  have  driven  into  the  same 
Gulph  the  army  of  Waterloo,  and  the  heroic  gentleman,  too, 
who  lent  his  hand  to  the  murder  of  Marshal  Ney.  This  is  the 
stuff  that  stands  between  the  rascals,  called  the  Holy  Alliance, 
and  the  slavery  of  the  whole  civilized  world.  This  is  the  stuff 
that  gives  us  Englishmen  an  asylum  ;  that  gives  us  time  to 
breathe  ;  that  enables  us  to  deal  our  tyrants  blows,  which,  with- 
out the  existence  of  this  stuff,  they  never  would  receive.  This 
America,  this"scene  of  happiness  under  a  free  government,  is  the 
beam  in  the  eye,  the  thorn  in  the  side,  the  worm  in  the  vitals,  of 
every  despot  upon  the  face  of  the  earth. 

320.  An  American  labourer  is  not  regulated,  as  to  time,  by 
clocks  and  watches.  The  sun,  who  seldom  hides  his  face,  tells  him 
when  to  begin  in  the  morning  and  when  to  leave  off  at  night. 
He  has  a  dollar,  a  whole  dollar  for  his  work  ;  but  then  it  is  the 
work  of  a  whole  day.  Here  is  no  dispute  about  hours.  "  Hours 
"  were  made  for  slaves"  is  an  old  saying  ;  and,  really,  they  seem 
here  to  act  upon  it  as  a  practical  maxim.  This  is  a  great  thing 
in  agricultural  affairs.  It  prevents  so  many  disputes.  It  removes 
so  great  a  cause  of  disagreement.  The  American  labourers,  like 
the  tavern-keepers,  are  never  servile,  but  always  civil.  Neither 
boobishness  nor  meanness  mark  their  character.  They  never  creep 
and  fawn,  and  are  never  rude.  Employed  about  your  house  as 
day-labourers,  they  never  come  to  interlope  for  victuals  or  drink. 
They  have  no  idea  of  such  a  thing  :  Their  pride  would  restrain 
them  if  their  plenty  did  not  ;  and,  thus  would  it  be  with  all 
labourers,  in  all  countries,  were  they  left  to  enjojr  the  fair  produce 
of  their  labour.  Full  pocket  or  empty  pocket,  these  American 
labourers  are  always  the  same  men  ;  no  saucy  cunning  in  the  one 
case,  and  no  base  crawling  in  the  other.  This,  too,  arises  from 
the  free  institutions  of  government.  A  man  has  a  voice  because 
he  is  a  man,  and  not  because  he  is  the  possessor  of  money.  And, 
shall  I  never  see  our  English  labourers  in  this  happy  state  ? 

321 .  Let  those  English  farmers,  who  love  to  see  a  poor  wretched 
labourer  stand  trembling  before  them  with  his  hat  off,  and  who 
think  no  more  of  him  than  of  a  dog,  remain  where  they  are  ;  or, 
go  off,  on  the  cavalry  horses,  to  the  devil  at  once,  if  they  wish  to 
avoid  the  tax-gatherer  ;  for,  they  would,  here,  meet  with  so  many 
mortifications,  that  they  would,  to  a  certainty,  hang  themselves 
in  a  month. 

322.  There  are  some,  and  even  many,  farmers,  who  do  not 
work  themselves  in  the  fields.     But,  they  all  attend  to  the  thing,  and 

re  all  equally  civil  to  their  working  people.     They  manage  their 

144 


FOOD  AND  RAIMENT 


affairs   very  judiciously.     Little   talking.  ^  Orders   plainly   given 
in  few  words,  and  in  a  decided  tone.     This  is  their  only  secret. 

323.  The  cattle  and  implements  used  in  husbandry  are  cheaper 
than  in  England  ;  that  is  to  say,  lower  priced.  The  wear  and  tear 
not  nearly  half  so  much  as  upon  a  farm  in  England  of  the  same 
size.  The  climate,  the  soil,  the  gentleness  and  docility  of  the 
horses  and  oxen,  the  lightness  of  the  waggons  and  carts,  the 
lightness  and  toughness  of  the  zvood  of  which  husbandry  imple- 
ments are  made,  the  simplicity  of  the  harness,  and,  above  all,  the 
ingenuity  and  handiness  of  the  workmen  in  repairing,  and  in 
making  shift  :  all  these  make  the  implements  a  matter- of  very 
little  note.  Where  horses  are  kept,  the  shoing  of  them  is  the  most 
serious  kind  of  expence. 

324.  The  first  business  of  a  farmer  is,  here,  and  ought  to  be 
every  where,  to  live  well  ;  to  live  in  ease  and  plenty  ;  to  "  keep 
hospitality ,"  as  the  old  English  saying  was.  To  save  money  is  a 
secondary  consideration  ;  but,  any  English  farmer,  who  is  a  good 
farmer  there,  may,  if  he  will  bring  his  industry  and  care  with 
him,  and  be  sure  to  leave  his  pride  and  insolence  (if  he  have  any) 
along  with  his  anxiety,  behind  him,  live  in  ease  and  plenty  here, 
and  keep  hospitality,  and  save  a  great  parcel  of  money  too.  If 
he  have  the  Jack-Daw  taste  for  heaping  little  round  things  to- 
gether in  a  hole,  or  chest,  he  may  follow  his  taste.  I  have  often 
thought  of  my  good  neighbour,  John  Gater,  who,  if  he  were  here, 
with  his  pretty  clipped  hedges,  his  garden-looking  fields,  and  his 
neat  homesteads,  would  have  visitors  from  far  and  near  ;  and, 
while  every  one  would  admire  and  praise,  no  soul  would  envy  him 
his  possessions.  Mr.  Gater  would  soon  have  all  these  things. 
The  hedges  only  want  planting  ;  and  he  would  feel  so  com- 
fortably to  know  that  the  Botley  Parson  could  never  again  poke 
his  nose  into  his  sheepfold  or  his  pig-stye.  However,  let  me 
hope,  rather,  that  the  destruction  of  the  Borough-tyranny,  will 
soon  make  England  a  country,  fit  for  an  honest  and  industrious 
man  to  live  in.  Let  me  hope,  that  a  relief  from  grinding  taxation 
will  soon  relieve  men  of  their  fears  of  dying  in  poverty,  and  will, 
thereby,  restore  to  England  the  "  hospitality "  for  which  she  was 
once  famed,  but  which  now  really  exists  no  where  but  in  America. 


M5 


CHAPTER  X. 

EXPENCE3    OF   HOUSE-KEEPING. 

325.  It  must  be  obvious,  that  these  must  be  in  proportion  to 
the  number  in  family,  and  to  the  style  of  living.  Therefore, 
every  one  knowing  how  he  stands  in  these  two  respects,  the  best 
thing  for  me  to  do  is  to  give  an  account  of  the  prices  of  house- 
rent,  food,  raiment,  and  servants  ;  or,  as  they  are  called  here, 
helpers. 

326.  In  the  great  cities  and  towns  house-rent  is  very  high- 
priced  ;  but,  then,  nobody  but  mad  people  live  there  except  they 
have  business  there,  and,  then,  they  are  paid  back  their  rent  in 
the  profits  of  that  business.  This  is  so  plain  a  matter,  that  no 
argument  is  necessary.  It  is  unnecessary  to  speak  about  the 
expences  of  a  farm-house  :  because,  the  farmer  eats,  and  very 
frequently  wears,  his  own  produce.  If  these  be  high-priced, 
so  is  that  part  which  he  sells.     Thus  both  ends  meet  with  him. 

327.  I  am,  therefore,  supposing  the  case  of  a  man,  who  follows 
no  business,  and  who  lives  upon  what  he  has  got.  In  England  he 
cannot  eat  and  drink  and  wear  the  interest  of  his  money  ;  for  the 
Boroughmcngers  have  pazvned  half  his  income,  and  they  will 
have  it,  or  his  blood.  He  wishes  to  escape  from  this  alternative. 
He  wishes  to  keep  his  blood,  and  enjoy  his  money  too.  He  would 
come  to  America  ;  but  he  does  not  know,  whether  prices  here  will 
not  make  up  for  the  robbery  of  the  Borough-villains  ;  and  he 
wishes  to  know,  too,  zvhat  sort  of  society  he  is  going  into.  Of  the 
latter  I  will  speak  in  the  next  chapter. 

328.  The  price  of  house-rent  and  fuel  is,  when  at  more  than 
three  miles  from  New  York,  as  low  as  it  is  at  the  same  distance 
from  any  great  city  or  town  in  England.  The  price  of  wheaten 
bread  is  a  third  lower  than  it  is  in  any  part  of  England.  The  price 
of  beef,  'mutton,  lairJb,  veal,  small  pork,  hog-meat,  poultry,  is  one 
half  the  London  price  :  the  first  as  good,  the  two  next  very  nearly 
as  good,  and  all  the  rest  far,  very  far,  better  than  in  London. 
The  sheep  and  lambs  that  I  now  "kill  for  my  house  are  as  fat  as 
any  that  I  ever  saw  in  all  my  life  ;  and  they  have  been  running  in 
wild  ground,  wholly  uncultivated  for  many  years,  all  the  summer. 
A  lamb,  killed  the  week  before  last,  weighing  in  the  whole,  thirty- 
eight  pounds,  had  five  pounds  of  loose  fat  and  three  pounds  and  ten 

146 


EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

ounces  of  suet.  We  cut  a  pound  of  solid  fat  from  each  breast  ; 
and,  after  that  it  was  too  fat  to  be  pleasant  to  eat.  My  flock  being 
small,  forty,  or  thereabouts,  of  some  neighbours  joined  them  ; 
and  they  have  all  got  fat  together.  I  have  missed  the  interlopers 
lately  :  I  suppose  the  "  Yorkers  "  have  eaten  them  up  by  this 
time.  What  they  have  fattened  on  except  brambles  and  cedars, 
I  am  sure  I  do  not  know.  If  any  Englishman  should  be  afraid 
that  he  will  find  no  roast-beef  here,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  tell 
him,  that  an  ox  was  killed,  last  winter,  at  Philadelphia,  the  quarters 
of  which  weighed  two  thousand,  two  hundred,  and  some  odd  pounds, 
and  he  was  sold  TO  THE  BUTCHER  for  one  thousand  three 
hundred  dollars.  This  is  proof  enough  of  the  spirit  of  enterprize, 
and  of  the  disposition  in  the  public  to  encourage  it.  I  believe 
this  to  have  been  the  fattest  ox  that  ever  was  killed  in  the  world. 
Three  times  as  much  money,  or,  perhaps,  ten  times  as  much, 
might  have  been  made,  if  the  ox  had  been  shown  for  money.  But, 
this  the  owner  would  not  permit  :  and  he  sold  the  ox  in  that 
condition.  I  need  hardly  say  that  the  owner  was  a  Quaker. 
New  Jersey  had  the  honour  of  producing  this  ox,  and  the  owners 
name  was  JOB  TYLER. 

329.  That  there  must  be  good  bread  in  America  is  pretty  evident 
from  the  well  known  fact,  that  hundreds  of  thousands  of  barrels 
of  flour  are,  most  years,  sent  to  England,  finer  than  any  that 
England  can  produce.  And,  having  now  provided  the  two 
principal  articles,  I  will  suppose,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  a 
gentleman  will  have  a  garden,  an  orchard,  and  a  cow  or  two  ;  but, 
if  he  should  be  able  (no  easy  matter)  to  find  a  genteel  country- 
house  without  these  conveniences,  he  may  buy  butter,  cheaper, 
and,  upon  an  average,  better  than  in  England.  The  garden  stuff, 
if  he  send  to  New  York  for  it,  he  must  buy  pretty  dear  ;  and,  faith, 
he  ought  to  buy  it  dear,  if  he  will  not  have  some  planted  and 
preserved. 

330.  Cheese,  of  the  North  River  produce,  I  have  bought  as  good 
of  Mr.  Stickler  of  New  York  as  I  ever  tasted  in  all  my  life  ;  and, 
indeed,  no  better  cheese  need  be  wished  for  than  what  is  now 
made  in  this  country.  The  average  price  is  about  seven  pence  a 
pound  (English  money),  which  is  much  lower  than  even  middling 
cheese  is  in  England.  Perhaps,  generally  speaking,  the  cheese 
here  is  not  so  good  as  the  better  kinds  in  England  ;  but,  there  is 
none  here  so  poor  as  the  poorest  in  England.  Indeed  the  people 
would  not  eat  it,  which  is  the  best  security  against  its  being  made. 
Mind,  I  state  distinctly,  that  as  good  cheese  as  I  ever  tasted,  if 
not  the  best,  was  of  American  produce.  I  know  the  article  well. 
Bread  and  cheese  dinners  have  been  the  dinners  of  a  good  fourth 
of  my  life.  I  know  the  Cheshire,  Gloucester,  Wiltshire,  Stilton,  - 
and  the  Parmasan  ;  and  I  never  tasted  better  than  American 
cheese^  bought  of  Mr.  Stickler,  in  Broad  Street,  New  York. 
And  this  cheese  Mr.  Stickler  informs  me  is  nothing  uncommon 
in  the  county  of  Cheshire  in  Massachusetts  ;  he  knows  at  least  a 

147 


EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

hundred  persons  himself  that  make  it  equally  good.  And, 
indeed,  why  should  it  not  be  thus  in  a  country  where  the  pasture 
is  so  rich  ;  where  the  sun  warms  every  thing  into  sweetness  ; 
where  the  cattle  eat  the  grass  close  under  the  shade  of  the  thickest 
trees  :  which  we  know  well  they  will  not  do  in  England.  Take 
any  fruit  which  has  grown  in  the  shade  in  England,  and  you  will 
find  that  it  has  not  half  the  sweetness  in  it,  that  there  is  in  fruit  of 
the  same  bulk,  grown  in  the  sun.  But,  here  the  sun  sends  his 
heat  down  through  all  the  boughs  and  leaves.  The  manufacturing 
of  cheese  is  not  yet  generally  brought,  in  this  country,  to  the 
English  perfection  ;  but,  here  are  all  the  materials,  and"  the  rest 
will  soon  follow. 

331.  Groceries,  as  they  are  called,  are,  upon  an  average,  at  far 
less  than  half  the  English  price.  Tea,  sugar,  coffee,  spices, 
chocolate,  cocoa,  salt,  sweet  oil  ;  all  free  of  the  Borough-mongers' 
taxes  and  their  pawn,  are  so  cheap  as  to  be  within  the  reach  of 
every  one.  Chocolate,  which  is  a  treat  to  the  rich,  in  England, 
is  here  used  even  by  the  negroes.  Sweet  oil,  raisins,  currants  ; 
all  the  things  from  the  Levant,  are  at  a  fourth  or  fifth  of  the  English 
price.  The  English  people,  who  pay  enormously  to  keep  pos- 
session of  the  East  and  West  Indies,  purchase  the  produce  even 
of  the  English  possessions  at  a  price  double  of  that  which  the 
Americans  give  for  that  very  produce  I  What  a  hellish  oppression 
must  that  people  live  under  !  Candles  and  soap  (quality  for 
quality)  are  half  the  English  price.  Wax  candles  (beautiful)  are 
at  a  third  of  the  English  price.  It  is  no  very  great  piece  of  ex- 
travagance to  burn  wax  candles  constantly  here,  and  it  is  frequently 
done  by  genteel  people,  who  do  not  make  their  own  candles. 

332.  Fish  I  have  not  mentioned,  because  fish  is  not  every  where 
to  be  had  in  abundance.  But,  any  where  near  the  coast  it  is  ; 
and,  it  is  so  cheap,  that  one  wonders  how  it  can  be  brought  to 
market  for  the  money.  Fine  Black-Rock,  as  good,  at  least,  as 
codfish,  I  have  seen  sold,  and  in  cold  weather  too,  at  an  English 
farthing  a  pound.  They  now  bring  us  fine  fish  round  the  country 
to  our  doors,  at  an  English  three  pence  a  pound.  I  believe  they 
count  fifty  or  sixty  sorts  of  fish  in  New  York  market,  as  the  average. 
Oysters,  other  shell-fish,  called  clams.  In  short,  the  variety  and 
abundance  are  such  that  I  cannot  describe  them. 

333.  An  idea  of  the  state  of  plenty  may  be  formed  from  these 
facts  :  nobody  but  the  free  negroes  who  have  families  ever  think 
of  eating  a  sheep's  head  and  pluck.  It  is  seldom  that  oxen's  heads 
are  used  at  home,  or  sold,  and  never  in  the  country.  In  the  course 
of  the  year  hundreds  of  calves'  heads,  large  bits  and  whole  joints 
of  meat,  are  left  on  the  shambles,  at  New  York,  for  any  body  to 
take  away  that  will.  They  generally  fall  to  the  share  of  the  street 
hogs,  a  thousand  or  two  of  which  are  constantly  fatting  in  New 
York  on  the  meat  and  fish  flung  out  of  the  houses.  I  shall  be 
told,  that  it  is  only  in  hot  weather,  that  the  shambles  are  left  thus 
garnished.     Very  true  ;  but,  are  the  shambles  of  any  other  country 

148 


EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

thus  garnished  in  hot  weather  ?     Oh  !  no  !     If  it  were  not  for  the 
superabundance,  all  the  food  would  be  sold  at  some  price  or  other. 

334.  After  bread,  flesh,  fish,  fowl,  butter,  cheese  and  groceries, 
comes  fruit.  Apples,  pears,  cherries,  peaches  at  a  tenth  part  of 
the  English  price.  The  other  day  I  met  a  man  going  to  market 
with  a  waggon  load  of  winter  pears.  He  had  high  boards  on  the 
sides  of  the  waggon,  and  his  waggon  held  about  40  or  50  bushels. 
I  have  bought  very  good  apples  this  year  for  four  pence  half  penny 
(English)  a  bushel,  to  boil  for  little  pigs.  Besides  these,  straw- 
berries grow  wild  in  abundance  ;  but  no  one  will  take  the  trouble 
to  get  them.  Huckle-berries  in  the  woods  in  great  abundance, 
chesnuts  all  over  the  county.  Four  pence  half-penny  (English) 
a  quart  for  these  latter.  Cranberries,  the  finest  fruit  for  tarts 
that  ever  grew,  are  bought  for  about  a  dollar  a  bushel,  and  they 
will  keep,  flung  down  in  the  corner  of  a  room,  for  five  months  in 
the  year.  As  a  sauce  to  venison  or  mutton,  they  are  as  good  as 
currant  jelly.  Pine  apples  in  abundance,  for  several  months  in 
the  year,  at  an  average  of  an  English  shilling  each.  Melons  at 
an  average  of  an  English  eight  pence.  In  short,  what  is  there  not 
in  the  way  of  fruit  ?  All  excellent  of  their  kinds  and  all  for  a 
mere  trifle,  compared  to  what  they  cost  in  England. 

335.  I  am  afraid  to  speak  of  drink,  lest  I  should  be  supposed  to 
countenance  the  common  use  of  it.  But,  protesting  most  decidedly 
against  this  conclusion,  I  proceed  to  inform  those,  who  are  not 
content  with  the  cow  for  vintner  and  brewer,  that  all  the 
materials  for  making  people  drunk,  or  muddle  headed,  are 
much  cheaper  here  than  in  England.  Beer,  good  ale,  I  mean, 
a  great  deal  better  than  the  common  public-house  beer  in  England ; 
in  short,  good,  strong,  clear  ale,  is,  at  New  York,  eight  dollars  a 
barrel  ;  that  is,  about  fourteen  English  pence  a  gallon.  Brew 
yourself,  in  the  country,  and  it  is  about  seven  English  pence  a 
gallon  :  that  is  to  say,  less  than  two  pence  a  quart.  No  Borough- 
mongers'  tax  on  malt,  hops,  or  beer  !  Portugal  wine  is  about 
half  the  price  that  it  is  in  England.  French  wine  a  sixth  part  of 
the  English  price.  Brandy  and  Rum  about  the  same  in  pro- 
portion ;  and  the  common  spirits  of  the  country  are  about  three 
shillings  and  sixpence  (English)  a  gallon.  Come  on,  then,  if  you 
love  toping  ;  for  here  you  may  drink  yourselves  blind  at  the  price 
of  sixpence. 

336.  Wearing  apparel  comes  chiefly  from  England,  and  all  the 
materials  of  dress  are  as  cheap  as  they  are  there  ;  for,  though  there 
is  a  duty  laid  on  the  importation,  the  absence  of  taxes,  and  the 
cheap  food  and  drink,  enable  the  retailer  to  sell  as  low  here  as 
there.  Shoes  are  cheaper  than  in  England  ;  for,  though  shoe- 
makers are  well  paid  for  their  labour,  there  is  no  Borough-villain 
to  tax  the  leather.  All  the  India  and  French  goods  are  at  half 
the  English  price.  Here  no  ruffian  can  seize  you  by  the  throat 
and  tear  off  your  suspected  handkerchief.  Here  Signor  Waith- 
man,  or  any  body  in  that  line,  might  have  sold  French  gloves  and 

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EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

shawls  without  being  tempted  to  quit  the  field  of  politics  as  a 
compromise  with  the  government  ;  and  without  any  breach  of 
covenants,  after  being  suffered  to  escape  with  only  a  gentle 
squeeze. 

337.  Household  Furniture,  all  cheaper  than  in  England. 
Mahogany  timber  a  third  part  of  the  English  price.  The  distance 
shorter  to  bring  it,  and  the  tax  next  to  nothing  on  importation. 
The  woods  here,  the  pine,  the  ash,  the  white-oak,  the  walnut,  the 
tulip-tree,  and  many  others,  all  excellent.  The  workman  paid 
high  wages,  but  no  tax.  No  Borough-villians  to  share  in  the 
amount  of  the  price. 

338.  Horses,  carriages,  harness,  all  as  good,  as  gay,  and  cheaper 
than  in  England.  I  hardly  ever  saw  a  rip  in  this  country.  The 
hackney  coach  horses  and  the  coaches  themselves,  at  New  York, 
bear  no  resemblance  to  things  of  the  same  name  in  London. 
The  former  are  all  good,  sound,  clean,  and  handsome.  What  the 
latter  are  I  need  describe  in  no  other  way  than  to  say,  that  the 
coaches  seem  fit  for  nothing  but  the  fire  and  the  horses  for  the 
dogs. 

339.  Domestic  servants  I  This  is  a  weighty  article  :  not  in  the 
cost,  however,  so  much  as  in  the  plague.  A  good  man  servant  is 
worth  thirty  pounds  sterling  a  year  ;  and  a  good  woman  servant, 
twenty  pounds  sterling  a  year.  But,  this  is  not  all  ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  they  will  hire  only  by  the  month.  This  is  what  they,  in 
fact,  do  in  England  ;  for,  there  they  can  quit  at  a  month's  warning. 
The  man  will  not  wear  a  livery,  any  more  than  he  will  wear  a 
halter  round  his  neck.  This  is  no  great  matter  ;  for,  as  your 
neighbours'  men  are  of  the  same  taste,  you  expose  yourself  to  no 
humiliation  on  this  score.  Neither  men  nor  women  will  allow 
you  to  call  them  servants,  and  they  will  take  especial  care  not  to 
call  themselves  by  that  name.  This  seems  something  very 
capricious,  at  the  least  ;  and,  as  people  in  such  situations  of  life, 
really  are  servants,  according  to  even  the  sense  which  Moses 
gives  to  the  word,  when  he  forbids  the  working  of  the  man  servant 
and  the  maid  servant,  the  objection,  the  rooted  aversion,  to  the 
name,  seems  to  bespeak  a  mixture  of  false  pride  and  of  insolence, 
neither  of  which  belong  to  the  American  character,  even  in  the 
lowest  walks  of  life.  I  will,  therefore,  explain  the  cause  of  this 
dislike  to  the  name  of  servant.  When  this  country  was  first 
settled,  there  were  no  people  that  laboured  for  other  people  :  but, 
as  man  is  always  trying  to  throw  the  working  part  off  his  own 
shoulders,  as  we  see  by  the  conduct  of  priests  in  all  ages,  negroes 
were  soon  introduced.  Englishmen,  who  had  fled  from  tyranny 
at  home,  were  naturally  shy  of  calling  other  men  their  slaves  : 
and,  therefore,  "for  more  grace,"  as  Master  Matthew  says  in  the 
play,  they  called  their  slaves  servants.  But,  though  I  doubt  not 
that  this  device  was  quite  efficient  in  quieting  their  own  con- 
sciences, it  gave  rise  to  the  notion,  that  slave  and  servant  meant 
one  and  the  same  thing,  a  conclusion  perfectly  natural  and  directly 

150 


EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

deducible  from  the  premises.  Hence  every  free  man  and  woman 
have  rejected  with  just  disdain  the  appellation  of  servant.  One 
would  think,  however,  that  they  might  be  reconciled  to  it  by  the 
conduct  of  some  of  their  superiors  in  life,  who,  without  the 
smallest  apparent  reluctance,  call  themselves  "  Public  Servants" 
in  imitation,  I  suppose,  of  English  Ministers,  and  his  Holiness, 
the  Pope,  who,  in  the  excess  of  his  humility,  calls  himself,  "  the 
**  Servant  of  the  Servants  of  the  Lord."  But  perhaps,  the 
American  Domestics  have  observed,  that  "Public  Servant  " 
really  means  master.  Be  the  cause  what  it  may,  however,  they 
continue  most  obstinately  to  scout  the  name  of  servant  ;  and, 
though  they  still  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  their  head,  there  is  not  one 
of  them  that  will  not  resent  the  affront  with  more  bitterness  than 
any  other  that  you  can  offer.  The  man,  therefore,  who  would 
deliberately  offer  such  an  affront  must  be  a  fool.  But,  there  is 
an  inconvenience  far  greater  than  this.  People  in  general  are  so 
comfortably  situated,  that  very  few,  and  then  only  of  those  who 
are  pushed  hard,  will  become  domestics  to  any  body.  So  that, 
generally  speaking,  Domestics  of  both  sexes  are  far  from  good. 
They  are  honest  :  but  they  are  not  obedient.  They  are  careless. 
Wanting  frequently  in  the  greater  part  of  those  qualities,  which 
make  their  services  conducive  to  the  neatness  of  houses  and 
comfort  of  families.  What  a  difference  would  it  make  in  this 
country,  if  it  could  be  supplied  with  nice,  clean,  dutiful  English 
maid  servants  !  As  to  the  men,  it  does  not  much  signify  ;  but, 
for  the  want  of  the  maids,  nothing  but  the  absence  of  grinding 
taxation  can  compensate.  As  to  bringing  them  vjith  you,  it  is  as 
wild  a  project  as  it  would  be  to  try  to  carry  the  sunbeams  to 
England.  They  will  begin  to  change  before  the  ship  gets  on 
soundings  ;  and,  before  they  have  been  here  a  month,  you  must 
turn  them  out  of  doors,  or  they  will  you.  If,  by  any  chance, 
you  find  them  here,  it  may  do  ;  but  bring  them  out  and  keep  them 
you  cannot.  The  best  way  is  to  put  on  your  philosophy  ;  never 
to  look  at  this  evil  without,  at  the  same  time,  looking  at  the  many 
good  things  that  you  find  here.  Make  the  best  selection  you 
can.  Give  good  wages,  not  too  much  work,  and  resolve,  at  all 
events,  to  treat  them  with  civility. 

340.  However,  what  is  this  plague,  compared  with  that  of  the 
tax  gatherer  ?  What  is  this  plague  compared  with  the  constant 
sight  of  beggars  and  paupers,  and  the  constant  dread  of  becoming 
a  pauper  or  beggar  yourself  ?  If  your  commands  are  not  obeyed 
with  such  alacrity  as  in  England,  you  have,  at  any  rate,  nobody  to 
command  you.  You  are  not  ordered  to  "  stand  and  deliver  " 
twenty  or  thirty  times  in  the  year  by  the  insolent  agent  of  Borough- 
mongers.  No  one  comes  to  forbid  you  to  open  or  shut  up  a 
window.  No  insolent  set  of  Commissioners  send  their  order  for 
you  to  dance  attendance  on  thern,  to  shew  cause  why  they  should 
not  double-tax  you  :  and,  when  you  have  shown  cause,  even  on 
your  oath,  make  you  pay  the  tax,  laugh  in  your  face,  and  leave  you 

151 


EXPENCES  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

an  appeal  from  themselves  to  another  set,  deriving  their  authority 
from  the  same  source,  and  having  a  similar  interest  in  oppressing 
you,  and  thus  laying  your  property  prostrate  beneath  the  hoof 
of  an  insolent  and  remorseless  tyranny.  Free,  wholly  free,  from 
this  tantalizing,  this  grinding,  this  odious  curse,  what  need  you 
care  about  the  petty  plagues  of  Domestic  Servants  ? 

341.  However,  as  there  are  some  men  and  some  women,  who 
can  never  be  at  heart's  ease,  unless  they  have  the  power  of 
domineering  over  somebody  or  other,  and  who  will  rather  be 
slaves  themselves  than  not  have  it  in  their  power  to  treat  others 
as  slaves,  it  becomes  a  man  of  fortune,  proposing  to  emigrate  to 
America,  to  consider  soberly,  whether  hie,  or  his  wife,  be  of  this 
taste  ;  and,  if  the  result  of  his  consideration  be  in  the  affirmative, 
his  best  way  will  be  to  continue  to  live  under  the  Boroughmongers, 
or,  which  I  would  rather  recommend,  hang  himself  at  once. 


152 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 

342.  All  these  are,  generally  speaking,  the  same  as  those  of  the 
people  of  England.  The  French  call  this  people  Les  Anglo- 
Americains  :  and,  indeed,  what  are  they  else  ?  Of  the  manners 
and  customs  somewhat  peculiar  to  America  I  have  said  so  much, 
here  and  there,  in  former  Chapters,  that  I  can  hardly  say  any 
thing  new  here  upon  these  matters.  But,  as  society  is  naturally 
a  great  thing  with  a  gentleman,  who  thinks  of  coming  hither  with 
his  wife  and  children,  I  will  endeavour  to  describe  the  society 
that  he  will  find  here.  To  give  general  descriptions  is  not  so 
satisfactory  as  it  is  to  deal  a  little  in  particular  instances  ;  to  tell 
of  what  one  has  seen  and  experienced.  This  is  what  I  shall  do  ; 
and,  in  this  Chapter  I  wish  to  be  regarded  as  addressing  myself 
to  a  most  worthy  and  public-spirited  gentleman  of  moderate 
fortune,  in  Lancashire,  who,  with  a  large  family,  now  balances 
whether  he  shall  come,  or  stay. 

343.  Now,  then,  my  dear  Sir,  this  people  contains  very  few 
persons  very  much  raised  in  men's  estimation,  above  the  general 
mass  ;  for,  though  there  are  some  men  of  immense  fortunes, 
their  wealth  does  very  little  indeed  in  the  way  of  purchasing  even 
the  outward  signs  of  respect  ;  and,  as  to  adulation,  it  is  not  to  be 
purchased  with  love  or  money.  Men,  be  they  what  they  may,  are 
generally  called  by  their  tzvo  names,  without  any  thing  prefixed 
or  added.  I  am  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  this  country  at  present  ; 
for  people  in  general  call  me  "  Cobbett,"  though  the  Quakers 
provokingly  persevere  in  putting  the  William  before  it,  and  my 
old  friends  in  Pennsylvania,  use  even  the  word  Billy,  which,  in 
the  very  sound  of  the  letters,  is  an  antidote  to  every  thing  like 
thirst  for  distinction. 

344.  Fielding,  in  one  of  his  romances,  observes,  that  there  are 
but  few  cases,  in  which  a  husband  can  be  justified  in  availing 
himself  of  the  right  which  the  law  gives  him  to  bestow  manual 
chastisement  upon  his  wife,  and  that  one  of  these,  he  thinks,  is, 
when  any  pretensions  to  superiority  of  blood  make  their  appearance 
in  her  language  and  conduct.  They  have  a  better  cure  for  this 
malady  here  ;  namely  ;   silent,  but,  ineffable  contempt. 

345.  It  is  supposed,  in  England,  that  this  equality  of  estimation 

153 


MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND 

must  beget  a  general  coarseness  and  rudeness  of  behaviour. 
Never  was  there  a  greater  mistake.  No  man  likes  to  be  treated 
with  disrespect  ;  and,  when  he  finds  that  he  can  obtain  respect 
only  by  treating  others  with  respect,  he  will  use  that  only  means. 
When  he  finds  that  neither  haughtiness  nor  wealth  will  bring  him 
a  civil  word,  he  becomes  civil  himself  ;  and,  I  repeat  it  again  and 
again,  this  is  a  country  of  universal  civility. 

346.  The  causes  of  hypocrisy  are  the  fear  of  loss  and  the  hope 
of  gain.  Men  crawl  to  those,  whom,  in  their  hearts,  they  despise, 
because  they  fear  the  effects  of  their  ill-will  and  hope  to  gain  by 
their  good-will.  The  circumstances  of  all  ranks  are  so  easy  here, 
that  there  is  no  cause  for  hypocrisy  ;  and  the  thing  is  not  of  so 
fascinating  a  nature,  that  men  should  Iovq  it  for  its  own  sake. 

347.  The  boasting  of  wealth,  and  the  endeavouring  to  disguise 
poverty,  these  two  acts,  so  painful  to  contemplate,  are  almost 
total  strangers  in  this  country  ;  for,  no  man  can  gain  adulation 
or  respect  by  his  wealth,  and  no  man  dreads  the  effects  of  poverty, 
because  no  man  sees  any  dreadful  effects  arising  from  poverty. 

348.  That  anxious  eagerness  to  get  on,  which  is  seldom  un- 
accompanied with  some  degree  of  envy  of  more  successful  neigh- 
bours, and  which  has  its  foundation  first  in  a  dread  of  future  want, 
and  next  in  a  desire  to  obtain  distinction  by  means  of  wealth  :  this 
anxious  eagerness,  so  unamiable  in  itself,  and  so  unpleasant  an 
inmate  of  the  breast,  so  great  a  sourer  of  the  temper,  is  a  stranger 
to  America,  where  accidents  and  losses,  which  would  drive  an 
Englishman  half  mad,  produce  but  very  little  agitation. 

349.  From  the  absence  of  so  many  causes  of  uneasiness,  of 
envy,  of  jealousy,  of  rivalship,  and  of  mutual  dislike,  society, 
that  is  to  say,  the  intercourse  between  man  and  man,  and  family 
and  family,  becomes  easy  and  pleasant  ;  while  the  universal 
plenty  is  the  cause  of  universal  hospitality.  I  know,  and  have 
ever  known,  but  little  of  the  people  in  the  cities  and  towns  in 
America  ;  but,  the  difference  between  them  and  the  people  in 
the  country  can  only  be  such  as  is  found  in  all  other  countries. 
As  to  the  manner  of  living  in  the  country,  I  was,  the  other  day, 
at  a  gentleman's  house,  and  I  asked  the  lady  for  her  bill  of  fare 
for  the  year.  I  saw  fourteen  fat  hogs  weighing  about  twenty 
score  a  piece,  which  were  to  come  into  the  house  the  next  Monday  ; 
for  here  they  slaughter  them  all  in  one  day.  This  led  me  to  ask, 
"  Why,  in  God's  name,  what  do  you  eat  in  a  year  ?  "  The  Bill 
of  fare  was  this,  for  this  present  year  :  about  this  same  quantity 
of  hog-meat  :  four  beeves  :  and  forty-six  fat  sheep  !  Besides  the 
sucking  pigs  (of  which  we  had  then  one  on  the  table),  besides 
lambs,  and  besides  the  produce  of  seventy  hen  fowls,  not  to  mention 
good  parcels  of  geese,  ducks  and  turkeys,  but,  not  to  forget  a  garden 
of  three  quarters  of  an  acre  and  the  butter  of  ten  cozvs,  not  one 
ounce  of  which  is  ever  sold  !  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  Why, 
you  will  say,  this  must  be  some  great  overgrown  farmer,  that  has 
swallowed  up  half  the  country  ;  or  some  nabob  sort  of  merchant. 

154 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

Not  at  all.  He  has  only  one  hundred  and  fifty  four  acres  of  land, 
(all  he  consumes  is  of  the  produce  of  this  land),  and  he  lives  in 
the  same  house  that  his  English-born  grandfather  lived  in. 

350.  When  the  hogs  are  killed,  the  house  is  full  of  work.  The 
sides  are  salted  down  as  pork.  The  hams  are  smoked.  The 
lean  meats  are  made  into  sausages,  of  which,  in  this  family,  they 
make  about  two  hundred  weight.  These  latter,  with  broiled  fish, 
eggs,  dried  beef,  dried  mutton,  slices  of  ham,  tongue,  bread, 
butter,  cheese,  short  cakes,  buckwheat  cakes,  sweet  meats  of 
various  sorts,  and  many  other  things,  make  up  the  breakfast  fare 
of  the  year,  and,  a  dish' of  beef  steakes  is  frequently  added. 

351.  When  one  sees  this  sort  of  living,  with  the  houses  full  of 
good  beds,  ready  for  the  guests  as  well  as  the  family  to  sleep  in, 
we  cannot  help  perceiving,  that  this  is  that  "  English  Hospitality  ," 
of  which  we  have  read  so  much  ;  but,  which  Boroughmongers' 
taxes  and  pawns  have  long  since  driven  out  of  England.  This 
American  way  of  life  puts  one  in  mind  of  Fortescue's  fine 
description  of  the  happy  state  of  the  English,  produced  by  their 
good  laws,  which  kept  every  man's  property  sacred,  even  from  the 
grasp  of  the  king.  "  Every  inhabitant  is  at  his  Liberty  fully  to 
"  use  and  enjoy  whatever  his  Farm  produceth,  the  Fruits  of  the 
"  Earth,  the  Increase  of  his  Flock,  and  the  like  :  Ail  the  Improve- 
"  ments  he  makes,  whether  by  his  own  proper  Industry,  or  of 
"  those  he  retains  in  his  Service,  are  his  own  to  use  and  enjoy 
<{  without  the  Lett,  Interruption,  or  Denial  of  any  :  If  he  be  in 
"  any  wise  injured,  or  oppressed,  he  shall  have  his  Amends  and 
"  Satisfaction  against  the  party  offending  :  Hence  it  is,  that  the 
"  Inhabitants  are  Rich  in  Gold,  Silver,  and  in  all  the  Necessaries 
"  and  Conveniences  of  Life.  They  drink  no  Water,  unless  at 
"  certain  Times,  upon  a  Religious  Score,  and  by  Way  of  doing 
"  Penance.  They  are  fed,  in  great  Abundance,  with  all  sorts  of 
"  Flesh  and  Fish,  of  which  they  have  Plenty  every  where  ;  they 
"  are  cloathed  throughout  in  good  Woollens  ;  their  Bedding  and 
"  other  Furniture  in  their  Houses  are  of  Wool,  and  that  in  great 
"  Store  :  They  are  also  well  provided  with  all  other  Sorts  of 
"  Household  Goods,  and  necessary  Implements  for  Husbandry  : 
"  Every  one,  according  to  his  Rank,  hath  all  Things  which  conduce 
"  to  make  Life  easy  and  happy.  They  are  not  sued  at  Law  but 
"  before  the  Ordinary  Judges,  where  they  are  treated  with  Mercy 
"  and  Justice,  according  to  the  Laws  of  the  Land  ;  neither  are 
"  they  impleaded  in  Point  of  Property,  or  arraigned  for  any 
"  Capital  Crime,  how  heinous  soever,  but  before  the  King's 
"  Judges,  and  according  to  the  Laws  of  the  Land.  These  are 
"  the  Advantages  consequent  from  that  Political  Mixt  Government 
"  which  obtains  in  England " 

352.  This  passage,  which  was  first  pointed  out  to  me  by  Sir 
Francis  Burdett,  describes  the  state  of  England  four  hundred 
years  ago  ;  and  this,  with  the  polish  of  modern  times  added,  is 
now  the  state  of  the  Americans.     Their  forefathers  brought  the 

155 


MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND 

"  English  Hospitality "  with  them  ;  for,  when  they  left  the 
country,  the  infernal  Boroughmonger  Funding  system  had  not 
begun.  The  Stuarts  were  religious  and  prerogative  tyrants  ; 
but  they  were  not,  like  their  successors,  the  Boroughmongers, 
taxing,  plundering  tyrants.  Their  quarrels  with  their  subjects 
were  about  mere  words  ;  with  the  Boroughmongers  it  is  a  question 
of  purses  and  strong-boxes,  of  goods  and  chattels,  lands  and 
tenements.  "  Confiscation  "  is  their  word  ;  and  you  must  submit, 
be  hanged,  or  flee.  They  take  away  men's  property  at  their 
pleasure,  without  any  appeal  to  any  tribunal.  They  appoint 
Commissioners  to  seize  what  they  choose.  There  is,  in  fact,  no 
law  of  property  left.  The  Bishop -begotten  and  hell-born  system 
of  Funding  has  stripped  England  of  every  vestige  of  what  was  her 
ancient  character.  Her  hospitality  along  with  her  freedom  have 
crossed  the  Atlantic  ;  and  here  they  are  to  shame  our  ruffian 
tyrants,  if  they  were  sensible  of  shame,  and  to  give  shelter  to  those 
who  may  be  disposed  to  deal  them  distant  blows. 

353.  It  is  not  with  a  little  bit  of  dry  toast,  so  neatly  put  in  a 
rack  ;  a  bit  of  butter  so  round  and  small  ;  a  little  milk  pot  so 
pretty  and  so  empty  ;  an  egg  for  you,  the  host  and  hostess  not 
liking  eggs.  It  is  not  with  looks  that  seem  to  say,  "  don't  eat  too 
much,  for  the  taxgatherer  is  coming."  It  is  not  thus  that  you  are 
received  in  America.  You  are  not  much  asked,  not  much  pressed, 
to  eat  and  drink  ;  but,  such  an  abundance  is  spread  before  you, 
and  so  hearty  and  so  cordial  is  your  reception,  that  you  instantly 
lose  all  restraint,  and  are  tempted  to  feast  whether  you  be  hungry 
or  not.  And,  though  the  manner  and  style  are  widely  different 
in  different  houses,  the  abundance  every  where  prevails.  This 
is  the  strength  of  the  government  :  a  happy  people  :  and  no 
government  ought  to  have  any  other  strength. 

354.  But,  you  may  say,  perhaps,  that  plenty,  however  great, 
is  not  all  that  is  wanted.  Very  true  :  for  the  mind  is  of  more 
account  than  the  carcass.  But,  here  is  mind  too.  These  repasts, 
amongst  people  of  any  figure,  come  forth  under  the  super- 
intendance  of  industrious  and  accomplished  house-wifes,  or 
their  daughters,  who  all  read  a  great  deal,  and  in  whom  that  gentle 
treatment  from  parents  and  husbands,  which  arises  from  an 
absence  of  racking  anxiety,  has  created  an  habitual,  and  even  an 
hereditary  good  humour.  These  ladies  can  converse  with  you 
upon  almost  any  subject,  and  the  ease  and  gracefulness  of  their 
behaviour  are  surpassed  by  those  of  none  of  even  our  best- 
tempered  English  women.  They  fade  at  an  earlier  age  than  in 
England  ;  but,  till  then,  they  are  as  beautiful  as  the  women  in 
Cornwall,  which  contains,  to  my  thinking,  the  prettiest  women 
in  our  country.  However,  young  or  old,  blooming  or  fading, 
well  or  ill,  rich  or  poor,  they  still  preserve  their  good  humour. 


156 


CHAFL4CTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

"  But,   since,    alas !   frail   beauty   must   decay, 

"  Curl'd,    or   uncurl'd,   since   locks  will   turn   to   grey; 

"  Since   painted,    or   not  painted,   all   shall   fade, 

"And   she  who  scorns   a  man  must  die  a  maid; 

"  What,  then,  remains,  but  well  our  pow'r  to  use, 

"And  keep  good  humour  still,  whate'er  we  lose? 

"  And,  trust  me,  Dear,  good-humour  can  prevail, 

"  When  flights   and  fits,   and  screams  and   scolding  fail." 

355.  This  beautiful  passage,  from  the  most  beautiful  of  poets, 
which  ought  to  be  fastened  in  large  print  upon  every  lady's  dressing 
table,  the  American  women,  of  all  ranks,  seem  to  have  by  heart. 
Even  amongst  the  very  lowest  of  the  people,  you  seldom  hear  of 
that  torment,  which  the  old  proverb  makes  the  twin  of  a  smoky 
house. 

356.  There  are  very  few  really  ignorant  men  in  America  of  native 
growth.  Every  farmer  is  more  or  less  of  a  reader.  There  is  no 
brogue,  no  provincial  dialect.  No  class  like  that  which  the  French 
call  peasantry,  and  which  degrading  appellation  the  miscreant 
spawn  of  the  Funds  have,  of  late  years,  applied  to  the  whole  mass 
of  the  most  useful  of  the  people  in  England,  those  who  do  the  work 
and  fight  the  battles.  And,  as  to  the  men,  who  would  naturally 
form  your  acquaintances,  they,  I  know  from  experience,  are  as 
kind,  frank,  and  sensible  men  as  are,  on  the  general  run,  to  be 
found  in  England,  even  with  the  power  of  selection.  They  are 
all  well-informed  ;  modest  without  shyness  ;  always  free  to 
communicate  what  they  know,  and  never  ashamed  to  acknowledge 
that  they  have  yet  to  learn.  You  never  hear  them  boast  of  their 
possessions,  and  you  never  hear  them  complaining  of  their  wants. 
They  have  all  been  readers  from  their  youth  up  ;  and  there  are 
few  subjects  upon  which  they  cannot  converse  with  you,  whether 
of  a  political  or  scientific  nature.  At  any  rate,  they  always  hear 
with  patience.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  heard  a  native  American 
interrupt  another  man  while  he  was  speaking.  Their  sedateness 
and  coolness,  the  deliberate  manner  in  which  they  say  and  do  every 
thing,  and  the  slowness  and  reserve  with  which  they  express  their 
assent  ;  these  are  very  wrongly  estimated,  when  they  are  taken 
for  marks  of  a  want  of  feeling.  It  must  be  a  tale  of  woe  indeed, 
that  will  bring  a  tear  from  an  American's  eye  ;  but  any  trumped 
up  story  will  send  his  hand  to  his  pocket,  as  the  ambassadors  from 
the  beggars  of  France,  Italy  and  Germany  can  fully  testify. 

357.  However,  you  will  not,  for  a  long  while,  know  what  to  do 
for  want  of  the  quick  responses  of  the  English  tongue,  and  the 
decided  tone  of  the  English  expression.  The  loud  voice  :  the 
hard  squeeze  by  the  hand  ;  the  instant  assent  or  dissent  :  the 
clamorous  joy  :  the  bitter  wailing  :  the  ardent  friendship  :  the 
deadly  enmity  :  the  love  that  makes  people  kill  themselves  :  the 
hatred  that  makes  them  kill  others.  All  these  belong  to  the 
characters  of  Englishmen,  in  whose  minds  and  hearts  every 
feeling  exists  in  the  extreme.  To  decide  the  question,  which 
character  is,  upon  the  whole,  best,  the  American  or  the  English, 

M  157 


MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND 

we  must  appeal  to  some  third  party.  But,  it  is  no  matter  :  we 
cannot  change  our  natures.  For  my  part,  who  can,  in  nothing, 
think  or  act  by  halves,  I  must  belie  my  very  nature,  if  I  said  that 
1  did  not  like  the  character  of  my  own  countrymen  best.  We 
all  like  our  own  parents  and  children  better  than  other  people's 
parents  and  children  ;  not  because  they  are  better,  but  because 
they  are  ours  :  because  they  belong  to  us  and  we  to  them,  and 
because  we  must  resemble  each  other.  There  are  some  Americans 
that  I  like  full  as  well  as  I  do  any  man  in  England  ;  but,  if,  nation 
against  nation,  I  put  the  question  home  to  my  heart,  it  instantly 
decides  in  favour  of  my  countrymen. 

358.  You  must  not  be  offended  if  you  find  people  here  take  but 
little  interest  in  the  concerns  of  England.     Why  should  they  ? 

Bolton  F r  cannot  hire  spies  to  entrap  them.     As  matter 

of  curiosity,  they  may  contemplate  such  works  as  those  of 
Fletcher  ;  but,  they  cannot  feel  much  upon  the  subject ;  and 
they  are  not  insincere  enough  to  express  much. 

359.  There  is  one  thing  in  the  Americans,  which,  though  its 
proper  place  was  further  back,  I  have  reserved,  or  rather  kept 
back,  to  the  last  moment.  It  has  presented  itself  several  times  ; 
but  I  have  turned  from  the  thought,  as  men  do  from  thinking  of 
any  mortal  disease  that  is  at  work  in  their  frame.  It  is  not 
covetousness  ;  it  is  not  niggardliness  ;  it  is  not  insincerity  ; 
it  is  not  enviousness  ;  it  is  not  cowardice,  above  all  things  :  it  is 
DRINKING.  Aye,  and  that  too,  amongst  but  too  many  men 
who,  one  would  think,  would  loath  it.  You  can  go  into  hardly 
any  man's  house,  without  being  asked  to  drink  wine,  or  spirits, 
even  in  the  morning.  They  are  quick  at  meals,  are  little  eaters, 
seem  to  care  little  about  what  they  eat,  and  never  talk  about  it. 
This,  which  arises  out  of  the  universal  abundance  of  good  and 
even  fine  eatables,  is  very  amiable.  You  are  here  disgusted  with 
none  of  those  eaters  by  reputation  that  are  found,  especial 
amongst  the  Parsons,  in  England  :  fellows  that  unbutton  at  it. 
Nor  do  the  Americans  sit  and  tope  much  after  dinner,  and  talk  on 
till  they  get  into  nonsense  and  smut,  which  last  is  a  sure  mark  of  a 
silly  and,  pretty  generally,  even  of  a  base  mind.  But,  they  tipple  : 
and  the  infernal  spirits  they  tipple,  too  !  The  scenes  that  I 
witnessed  at  Harrisburgh  I  shall  never  forget.  I  almost  wished 
(God  forgive  me  !)  that  there  were  Boroughmongers  here  to  tax 
these  drinkers  :  they  would  soon  reduce  them  to  a  moderate 
dose.  Any  nation  that  feels  itself  uneasy  with  its  fulness  of  good 
things,  has  only  to  resort  to  an  application  of  Boroughmongers. 
These  are  by  no  means  nice  feeders  or  of  contracted  throat : 
they  will  suck  down  any  thing  from  the  poor  man's  pot  of  beer  to 
the  rich  man's  lands  and  tenements. 

360.  The  Americans  preserve  their  gravity  and  quietness  and 
good-humour  even  in  their  drink  ;  and  so  much  the  worse.  It 
were  far  better  for  them  to  be  as  noisy  and  quarrelsome  as  the 
English  drunkards  ;  for  then  the  odiousness  of  the  vice  would  be 

158 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

more  visible,  and  the  vice  itself  might  become  less  frequent 
Few  vices  want  an  apology,  and  drinking  has  not  only  its  apologies 
but  its  praises  :  for,  besides  the  appellation  of  "  generous  wine" 
and  the  numerous  songs,  some  in  very  elegant  and  witty  language, 
from  the  pens  of  debauched  men  of  talents,  drinking  is  said  to  be 
necessary,  in  certain  cases  at  least,  to  raise  the  spirits,  and  to  keep 
out  cold.  Never  was  any  thing  more  false.  Whatever  intoxicates 
must  enfeeble  in  the  end,  and  whatever  enfeebles  must  chill.  It 
is  very  well  known,  in  the  Northern  countries,  that,  if  the  cold  be 
such  as  to  produce  danger  of  frost-biting,  you  must  take  care  not 
to  drink  strong  liquors. 

361.  To  see  this  beastly  vice  in  young  men  is  shocking.  At  one 
of  the  taverns  at  Harrisburgh  there  were  several  as  fine  young  men 
as  I  ever  saw.  Well-dressed,  well  educated,  polite,  and  every 
thing  but  sober.  What  a  squalid,  drooping,  sickly  set  they  looked 
in  the  morning  ! 

362.  Even  little  boys  at,  or  under,  twelve  years  of  age,  go  into 
stores,  and  tip  off  their  drams  !  I  never  struck  a  child,  in  anger, 
in  my  life,  that  I  recollect ;  but,  if  I  were  so  unfortunate  as  to 
have  a  son  to  do  this,  he  having  had  an  example  to  the  contrary 
in  me,  I  would,  if  all  other  means  of  reclaiming  him  failed,  whip 
him  like  a  dog,  or,  which  would  be  better,  make  him  an  out-cast 
from  my  family. 

363.  However,  I  must  not  be  understood  as  meaning,  that  this 
tippling  is  universal  amongst  gentlemen  ;  and,  God  be  thanked, 
the  women  of  any  figure  in  life  do  by  no  means  give  in  to  the 
practice  ;  but,  abhor  it  as  much  as  well-bred  women  in  England, 
who,  in  general,  no  more  think  of  drinking  strong  liquors,  than 
they  do  of  drinking  poison. 

364.  I  shall  be  told,  that  men  in  the  harvest  field  must  have 
something  to  drink.  To  be  sure,  where  perspiration  almost 
instantly  carries  off  the  drink,  the  latter  does  not  remain  so  long 
to  burn  the  liver,  or  whatever  else  it  does  burn.  But,  I  much 
question  the  utility  even  here  ;  and  I  think,  that,  in  the  long  run, 
a  water-drinker  would  beat  a  spirit  drinker  at  any  thing,  provided 
both  had  plenty  of  good  food.  And,  besides,  beer,  which  does  not 
burn,  at  any  rate,  is  within  every  one's  reach  in  America,  if  he  will 
but  take  the  trouble  to  brew  it. 

365.  A  man,  at  Botley,  whom  I  was  very  severely  reproaching 
for  getting  drunk  and  lying  in  the  road,  whose  name  was  James 
Isaacs,  and  who  was,  by  the  by,  one  of  the  hardest  workers  I  ever 
knew,  said,  in  answer,  "  Why,  now,  Sir,  Noah  and  Lot  were  two 
"  very  good  men,  you  know,  and  yet  they  loved  a  drop  of  drink.'* 
"  Yes,  you  drunken  fool,"  replied  I,  "  but  you  do  not  read  that 
"  Isaac  ever  got  drunk  and  rolled  about  the  road."  I  could  not 
help  thinking,  however,  that  the  Bible  Societies,  with  the  wise 
Emperor  Alexander  and  the  Holy  Alliance  at  their  head,  might  as 
well  (to  say  nothing  about  the  cant  of  the  thing)  leave  the  Bible 
to  work  its  own  way.     I  had  seen  Isaacs  dead  drunk,  lying 

159 


MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND 

stretched  out,  by  my  front  gate,  against  the  public  highway  ; 
and,  if  he  had  followed  the  example  of  Noah,  he  would  not  have 
endeavoured  to  excuse  himself  in  the  modest  manner  that  he  did, 
but  would  have  affixed  an  everlasting  curse  on  me  and  my  children 
to  all  generations. 

366.  The  soldiers,  in  the  regiment  that  I  belonged  to,  many  of 
whom  served  in  the  American  war,  had  a  saying,  that  the  Quakers 
used  the  word  tired  in  place  of  the  word  drunk.  Whether  any  of 
them  do  ever  get  tired  themselves,  I  know  not  ;  but,  at  any  rate 
they  most  resolutely  set  their  faces  against  the  common  use  of 
spirits.  They  forbid  their  members  to  retail  them  ;  and,  in  case 
of  disobedience,  they  disown  them. 

367.  However,  there  is  no  remedy  but  the  introduction  of  beer, 
and,  I  am  very  happy  to  know,  that  beer  is,  every  day,  becoming 
more  and  more  fashionable.  At  Bristol  in  Pennsylvania,  I  was 
pleased  to  see  excellent  beer  in  clean  and  nice  pewter  pots.  Beer 
does  not  kill.  It  does  not  eat  out  the  vitals  and  take  the  colour 
from  the  cheek.  It  will  make  men  "  tired,"  indeed,  by  midnight  ; 
but  it  does  not  make  them  half  dead  in  the  morning.  We  call 
wine  the  juice  of  the  grape,  and  such  it  is  with  a  proporton  of, 
ardent  spirits,  equal,  in  Portugal  wine,  to  a.  fifth  of  the  wine  ;  and 
therefore,  when  a  man  has  taken  down  a  bottle  of  Port  or  of 
Madeira,  he  has  nearly  half  a  pint  of  ardent  spirits  in  him.  And 
yet  how  many  foolish  mothers  give  their  children  Port  wine  to 
strengthen  them  !  I  never  like  your  wine-physicians,  though  they 
are  great  favourites  with  but  too  many  patients.  Boniface,  in 
the  Beaux  Stratagem,  says  that  he  has  eaten  his  ale,  drunk  his  ale, 
worked  upon  his  ale,  and  slept  upon  his  ale,  for  forty  years,  and 
that  he  has  grown  fatter  and  fatter  ;  but,  that  his  wife  (God  rest 
her  soul  !)  would  not  take  it  pure  ;  she  would  adulterate  it  with 
brandy  ;  till,  at  last,  finding  that  the  poor  woman  was  never  well, 
he  put  a  tub  of  her  favourite  by  her  bedside,  which,  in  a  short 
time,  brought  her  "  a  happy  release  "  from  this  "  state  of  pro- 
bation," and  carried  her  off  into  the  "  the  world  of  spirits." 
Whether  Boniface  meant  this  as  a  pun,  I  do  not  know  ;  for,  really, 
if  I  am  to  judge  from  the  practice  of  many  of  the  vagrant  fanatics, 
I  must  believe,  that,  when  they  rave  about  the  spirit's  entering 
them,  they  mean  that  which  goes  out  of  a  glass  down  their  throat. 
Priests  may  make  what  they  will  of  their  devil  ;  they  may  make 
him  a  reptile  with  a  forked  tongue,  or  a  beast  with  a  cloven  hoof; 
they  may,  like  Milton,  dress  him  out  with  seraphic  wings  ;  or 
like  Saint  Francis,  they  may  give  him  horns  and  tail  :  but,  I  say 
that  the  devil,  who  is  the  strongest  tempter,  and  who  produces  the 
most  mischief  in  the  world,  approaches  us  in  the  shape  of  liquid, 
not  melted  brimstone,  but  wine,  gin,  brandy,  rum,  and  whiskey. 
One  comfort  is,  however,  that  this  devil,  of  whose  existence  we 
can  have  no  doubt,  who  is  visible  and  even  tangible,  we  can,  if  we 
will,  without  the  aid  of  priests,  or,  rather,  in  spite  of  them,  easily 
and  safely  set  at  defiance.     There  are  many  wrong  things  which 

160 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

men  do  against  the  general  and  natural  bent  of  their  minds. 
Fraud,  theft,  and  even  murder,  are  frequently,  and  most  frequently 
the  offspring  of  want.  In  these  cases,  it  is  a  choice  of  evils  ;  crime 
or  hunger.  But,  drinking  to  excess  is  a  man's  own  act  ;  an  evil 
deliberately  sought  after  ;  an  act  of  violence  committed  against 
reason  and  against  nature  ;  and  that,  too,  without  the  smallest 
temptation,  except  from  that  vicious  appetite,  which  he  himself 
has  voluntarily  created. 

368.  You,  my  dear  Sir,  stand  in  need  of  no  such  lectures  as  this, 
and  the  same  is,  I  hope,  the  case  with  the  far  greater  part  of  my 
readers  ;  but,  if  it  tend,  in  the  smallest  degree,  to  check  the  fearful 
growth  of  this  tree  of  unmixed  evil  ;  if  it  should  make  the  bottle 
less  cherished  even  in  one  small  circle  ;  nay,  if  it  keep  but  one 
young  man  in  the  world  in  the  paths  of  sobriety,  how  could  my 
time  have  been  better  bestowed  ? 


161 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RURAL  SPORTS. 

369.  There  are  persons,  who  question  the  right  of  man  to  pursue 
and  destroy  the  wild  animals,  which  are  called  game.  Such 
persons,  however,  claim  the  right  of  killing  foxes  and  hawks  : 
yet,  these  have  as  much  right  to  live  and  to  follow  their  food  as 
pheasants  and  partridges  have.  This,  therefore,  in  such  persons, 
is  nonsense. 

370.  Others,  in  their  mitigated  hostility  to  the  sports  of  the 
field,  say,  that  it  is  wanton  cruelty  to  shoot  or  hunt  ;  and  that  we 
kill  animals  from  the  farm-yard  only  because  their  flesh  is  necessary 
to  our  own  existence.  PROVE  THAT.  No  :  you  cannot.  If 
you  could,  it  is  but  the  "  tyrant's  plea  "  ;  but  you  cannot :  for 
we  know  that  men  can,  and  do,  live  without  animal  food,  and,  if 
their  labour  be  not  of  an  exhausting  kind,  live  well  too,  and  longer 
than  those  who  eat  it.  It  comes  to  this,  then,  that  we  kill  hogs 
and  oxen  because  we  choose  to  kill  them  ;  and,  we  kill  game  for 
precisely  the  same  reason. 

371.  A  third  class  of  objectors,  seeing  the  weak  position  of  the 
two  former,  and  still  resolved  to  eat  flesh,  take  their  stand  upon 
this  ground  :  that  sportsmen  send  some  game  off  wounded  and 
leave  them  in  a  state  of  suffering.  These  gentlemen  forget  the 
operations  performed  upon  calves,  pigs,  lambs  and  sometimes  on 
poultry.  Sir  Isaac  Coffin  prides  himself  upon  teaching  the 
English  ladies  how  to  make  turkey-capons  !  Only  think  of  the 
separation  of  calves,  pigs,  and  lambs,  at  an  early  age,  from  their 
mothers  !  Go,  you  sentimental  eaters  of  veal,  sucking  pig  and 
lamb,  and  hear  the  mournful  lowings,  whinings,  and  bleatings  ; 
observe  the  anxious  listen,  the  wistful  look,  and  the  dropping 
tear,  of  the  disconsolate  dams  ;  and,  then,  while  you  have  the 
carcasses  of  their  young  ones  under  your  teeth,  cry  out,  as  soon 
as  you  can  empty  your  mouths  a  little,  against  the  cruelty  of 
hunting  and  shooting.  Get  up  from  dinner  (but  take  care  to 
stuff  well  first),  and  go  and  drown  the  puppies  of  the  bitch,  and 
the  kittens  of  the  cat,  lest  they  should  share  a  little  in  what  their 
mothers  have  guarded  with  so  much  fidelity  ;  and,  as  good  stuffing 
may  tend  to  make  you  restless  in  the  night,  order  the  geese  to  be 
picked  alive,  that,  however  your  consciences  may  feel,  your  bed. 

162 


RURAL  SPORTS 


at  least,  may  be  easy  and  soft.  Witness  all  this  with  your  own 
eyes  ;  and  then  go  weeping  to  bed,  at  the  possibility  of  a  hare 
having  been  terribly  frightened  without  being  killed,  or  of  a  bird 
having  been  left  in  a  thicket  with  a  shot  in  its  body  or  a  fracture  in 
its  wing.  But,  before  you  go  up  stairs,  give  your  servant  orders 
to  be  early  at  market  for  fish,  fresh  out  of  the  water  ;  that  they 
may  be  scaled,  or  skinned  alive  !  A  truce  with  you,  then,  senti- 
mental eaters  of  flesh  :  and  here  I  propose  the  terms  of  a  lasting 
compromise  with  you.  We  must,  on  each  side,  yield  something  : 
we  sportsmen  will  content  ourselves  with  merely  seeing  the  hares 
skip  and  the  birds  fly  :  and  you  shall  be  content  with  the  flesh  and 
fish  that  come  from  cases  of  natural  death,  of  which,  I  am  sure, 
your  compassionate  disposition  will  not  refuse  us  a  trifling 
allowance. 

372.  Nor  have  even  the  Pythagoreans  a  much  better  battery 
against  us.  Sir  Richard  Phillips,  who  once  rang  a  peal  in  my 
ears  against  shooting  and  hunting,  does,  indeed,  eat  neither  flesh, 
fish,  nor  fowl.  His  abstinence  surpasses  that  of  a  Carmelite, 
while  his  bulk  would  not  disgrace  a  Benedictine  Monk,  or  a 
Protestant  Dean.  But,  he  forgets,  that  his  shoes  and  breeches 
and  gloves  are  made  of  the  skins  of  animals  :  he  forgets  that  he 
writes  (and  very  eloquently  too)  with  what  has  been  cruelly  taken 
from  a  fowl  ;  and  that,  in  order  to  cover  the  books  which  he  has 
had  made  and  sold,  hundreds  of  flocks  and  scores  of  droves  must 
have  perished  :  nay,  that,  to  get  him  his  beaver-hat,  a  beaver  must 
have  been  hunted  and  killed,  and,  in  the  doing  of  which,  many 
beavers  may  have  been  wounded  and  left  to  pine  away  the  rest  of 
their  lives  ;  and,  perhaps,  many  little  orphan  beavers,  left  to  lament 
the  murder  of  their  parents.  Ben  Ley  was  the  only  real  and 
sincere  Pythagorean  of  modern  times,  that  I  ever  heard  of.  He 
protested,  not  only  against  eating  the  flesh  of  animals,  but  also 
against  robbing  their  backs  ;  and,  therefore,  his  dress  consisted 
wholly  of  flax.  But,  even  he,  like  Sir  Richard  Phillips,  eat  milk, 
butter,  cheese,  and  eggs  ;  though  this  was  cruelly  robbing  the 
hens,  cows,  and  calves  ;  and,  indeed  causing  the  murder  of  the 
calves.  In  addition,  poor  little  Ben  forgot  the  materials  of  book- 
binding :  and,  it  was  well  he  did  ;  for  else,  his  Bible  would  have 
gone  into  the  fire  ! 

373.  Taking  it  for  granted,  then,  that  sportsmen  are  as  good 
as  other  folks  on  the  score  of  humanity,  the  sports  of  the  field,  like 
every  thing  else  done  in  the  fields,  tend  to  produce,  or  preserve 
health.  I  prefer  them  to  all  other  pastime,  because  they  produce 
early  rising  :  because  they  have  no  tendency  to  lead  young  men 
into  vicious  habits.  It  is  where  men  congregate  that  the  vices 
haunt.  A  hunter  or  a  shooter  may  also  be  a  gambler  and  a 
drinker  ;  but,  he  is  less  likely  to  be  fond  of  the  two  latter,  if  he  be 
fond  of  the  former.  Boys  will  take  to  something  in  the  way  of 
pastime  ;  and,  it  is  better  that  they  take  to  that  which  is  innocent, 
healthy,  and  manly,  than  that  which  is  vicious,  unhealthy,  and 

163 


RURAL  SPORTS 


effeminate.  Besides,  the  scenes  of  rural  sport  are  necessarily 
at  a  distance  from  cities  and  towns.  This  is  another  great  con- 
sideration ;  for  though  great  talents  are  wanted  to  be  employed  in 
the  hives  of  men,  they  are  very  rarely  acquired  in  these  hives  : 
the  surrounding  objects  are  too  numerous,  too  near  the  eye,  too 
frequently  under  it,  and  too  artificial. 

374.  For  these  reasons  I  have  always  encouraged  my  sons  to 
pursue  these  sports.  They  have,  until  the  age  of  14  or  15,  spent 
their  time,  by  day,  chiefly  amongst  horses  and  dogs,  and  in  the 
fields  and  farm-yard  ;  and  their  candle-light  has  been  spent 
chiefly  in  reading  books  about  hunting  and  shooting  and  about 
dogs  and  horses.  I  have  supplied  them  plentifully  with  books 
and  prints  relating  to  these  matters.  They  have  draivn  horses, 
dogs,  and  game  themselves.  These  things,  in  which  they  took 
so  deep  an  interest,  not  only  engaged  their  attention  and  wholly 
kept  them  from  all  taste  for,  and  even  all  knowledge  of,  cards  and 
other  senseless  amusements  ;  but,  they  led  them  to  read  and  write 
of  their  own  accord  :  and,  never  in  my  life  have  I  set  them  a  copy 
in  writing  nor  attempted  to  teach  them  a  word  of  reading.  They 
have  learnt  to  read  by  looking  into  books  about  dogs  and  game  ; 
and  they  have  learnt  to  write  by  imitating  my  writing,  and  by 
writing  endless  letters  to  me,  when  I  have  been  from  home,  about 
their  dogs  and  other  rural  concerns.  While  the  Borough- tyrants 
had  me  in  Newgate  for  two  years,  with  a  thousand  pounds  fine, 
for  having  expressed  my  indignation  at  their  flogging  of  English- 
men, in  the  heart  of  England,  under  a  guard  of  Hanoverian  sabres, 
I  received  volumes  of  letters  from  my  children  ;  and,  I  have  them 
now,  from  the  scrawl  of  three  years,  to  the  neat  and  beautiful  hand 
of  thirteen.  I  never  told  them  of  any  errors  in  their  letters.  All 
was  well.  The  best  evidence  of  the  utility  of  their  writing,  and  the 
strongest  encouragement  to  write  again,  was  a  very  clear  answer 
from  me,  in  a  very  precise  hand,  and  upon  very  nice  paper,  which 
they  never  failed  promptly  to  receive.  They  have  all  written  to 
me  before  they  could  form  a  single  letter.  A  little  bit  of  paper, 
with  some  ink-marks  on  it,  folded  up  by  themselves,  and  a  wafer 
stuck  in  it,  used  to  be  sent  to  me,  and  it  was  sure  to  bring  the 
writer  a  very,  very  kind  answer.  Thus  have  they  gone  on.  So 
far  from  being  a  trouble  to  me,  they  have  been  all  pleasure  and 
advantage.  For  many  years  they  have  been  so  many  secretaries. 
I  have  dictated  scores  of  registers  to  them,  which  have  gone  to 
the  press  without  my  ever  looking  at  them.  I  dictated  registers  to 
them  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  and  even  of  twelve.  They  have,  as  to 
trust-worthiness,  been  grown  persons,  at  eleven  or  twelve.^  I 
could  leave  my  house  and  affairs,  the  paying  of  men,  or  the  going 
from  home  on  business,  to  them  at  an  age  when  boys  in  England, 
in  general,  want  servants  to  watch  them  to  see  that  they  do  not 
kill  chickens,  torment  kittens,  or  set  the  buildings  on  fire. 

375.  Here  is  a  good  deal  of  boasting  :  but,  it  will  not  be  denied, 
that  I  have  done  a  great  deal  in  a  short  public  life,  and  I  see  no 

164 


RURAL  SPORTS 


harm  in  telling  my  readers  of  any  of  the  means,  that  I  have 
employed  ;  especially  as  I  know  of  few  greater  misfortunes  than 
that  of  breeding  up  things  to  be  school-boys  all  their  lives.  It  is 
not,  that  I  have  so  many  wonders  of  the  world  :  it  is  that  I  have 
pursued  a  rational  plan  of  education,  and  one  that  any  man  may 
pursue,  if  he  will,  with  similar  effects.  I  remembered,  too,  that 
I  myself  had  had  a  sportsman-education.  I  ran  after  the  hare- 
hounds  at  the  age  of  nine  or  ten.  I  have  many  and  many  a  day  left 
the  rooks  to  dig  up  the  wheat  and  peas,  while  I  followed  the 
hounds  ;  and  have  returned  home  at  dark-night,  with  my  legs 
full  of  thorns  and  my  belly  empty  to  go  supperless  to  bed,  and  to 
congratulate  myself  if  I  escaped  a  flogging.  I  was  sure  of  these 
consequences  ;  but  that  had  not  the  smallest  effect  in  restraining 
me.  All  the  lectures,  all  the  threats,  vanished  from  my  mind  in  a 
moment  upon  hearing  the  first  cry  of  the  hounds,  at  which  my 
heart  used  to  be  ready  to  bound  out  of  my  body.  I  remembered 
all  this.  I  traced  to  this  taste  my  contempt  for  card-playing  and 
for  all  childish  and  effeminate  amusements.  And,  therefore,  I 
resolved  to  leave  the  same  course  freely  open  to  my  sons.  This 
is  my  plan  of  education  :  others  may  follow  what  plan  they  please. 

376.  This  Chapter  will  be  a  head  without  a  body  ;  for,  it  will 
not  require  much  time  to  give  an  account  of  the  rural  sports  in 
America.  The  general  taste  of  the  country  is  to  kill  the  things 
in  order  to  have  them  to  eat,  which  latter  forms  no  part  of  the 
sportsman's  objects. 

377.  There  cannot  be  said  to  be  any  thing  here,  which  we,  in 
England,  call  hunting.  The  deer  are  hunted  by  dogs,  indeed, 
but  the  hunters  do  not  follow.  They  are  posted  at  their  several 
stations  to  shoot  the  deer  as  he  passes.  This  is  only  one  remove 
from  the  Indian  hunting.  I  never  saw,  that  I  know  of,  any  man 
that  had  seen  a  pack  of  hounds  in  America,  except  those  kept  by 
old  John  Brown,  in  Bucks  County,  Pennsylvania,  who  was  the 
only  hunting  Quaker  that  I  ever  heard  of,  and  who  was  grandfather 
of  the  famous  General  Brown.  In  short,  there  is  none  of  what  we 
call  hunting  ;  or,  so  little,  that  no  man  can  expect  to  meet  with  it. 

378.  No  coursing.  I  never  saw  a  greyhound  here.  Indeed, 
there  are  no  hares  that  have  the  same  manners  that  ours  have,  or 
any  thing  like  their  fleetness.  The  woods,  too,  or  some  sort  of 
cover,  except  in  the  singular  instance  of  the  plains  in  this  Island, 
are  too  near  at  hand. 

379.  But,  of  shooting  the  variety  is  endless.  Pheasants, 
partridges,  wood-cocks,  snipes,  grouse,  wild-ducks  of  many 
sorts,  teal,  plover,  rabbits. 

380.  There  is  a  disagreement  between  the  North  and  the  South 
as  to  the  naming  of  the  two  former.  North  of  New  Jersey  the 
pheasants  are  called  partridges,  and  the  partridges  are  called 
quails.  To  the  South  of  New  Jersey,  they  are  called  by  what  I 
think  are  their  proper  names,  taking  the  English  names  of  those 
birds  to  be  proper.     For,  pheasants  do  not  remain  in  coveys  : 

«6S 


RURAL  SPORTS 


but,  mix,  like  common  fowls.  The  intercourse  between  the  males 
and  females  is  promiscuous,  and  not  by  pairs,  as  in  the  case  of 
partridges.  And  these  are  the  manners  of  the  American 
pheasants,  which  are  found  by  ones,  twos,  and  so  on,  and  never 
in  families,  except  when  young,  when,  like  chickens,  they  keep 
with  the  old  hen.  The  American  partridges  are  not  quails  : 
because  quails  are  gregarious.  They  keep  in  flocks,  like  rooks 
(called  crows  in  America),  or  like  larks,  or  starlings  :  of  which  the 
reader  will  remember  a  remarkable  instance  in  the  history  of  the 
migration  of  those  grumbling  vagabonds,  the  Jews,  soon  after  their 
march  from  Horeb,  when  the  quails  came  and  settled  upon  each 
other's  backs  to  a  height  of  two  cubits,  and  covered  a  superficial 
space  of  two  days'  journey  in  diameter.  It  is  a  well  knov/n  fact, 
that  quails  flock  ;  it  is  also  well  known,  that  partridges  do  not,  but 
that  they  keep  in  distinct  families,  which  we  call  coveys  from  the 
French  couvee,  which  means  the  eggs  or  brood  which  a  hen  covers 
at  one  time.  The  American  partridges  live  in  coveys.  The 
cock  and  her  pair  in  the  spring.  They  have  their  brood  by  sitting 
alternately  on  the  eggs,  just  as  the  English  partridges  do  ;  the 
young  ones,  if  none  are  killed,  or  die,  remain  with  the  old  ones 
till  spring  ;  the  covey  always  live  within  a  small  distance  of  the 
same  spot  ;  if  frightened  into  a  state  of  separation,  they  call 
to  each  other  and  re-assemble  ;  they  roost  all  together  in  a  round 
ring,  as  close  as  they  can  sit,  the  tails  inward  and  the  heads  out- 
ward ;  and  are,  in  short,  in  all  their  manners,  precisely  the  same 
as  the  English  partridge,  with  this  exception,  that  they  will  some- 
times alight  on  a  rail  or  a  bough,  and  that,  when  the  hen  sits,  the 
cock,  perched  at  a  little  distance,  makes  a  sort  of  periodical  whistle 
in  a  monotonous,  but  very  soft  and  sweet  tone. 

381.  The  size  of  the  pheasant  is  about  the  half  of  that  of  the 
English.  The  plumage  is  by  no  means  so  beautiful  ;  but,  the 
flesh  is  far  more  delicate.  The  size  of  the  partridge  bears  about 
the  same  proportion.  But  its  plumage  is  more  beautiful  than 
that  of  the  English,  and  its  flesh  is  more  delicate.  Both  are 
delightful,  thought  rather  difficult,  shooting.  The  pheasant  does 
not  tower,  but  darts  through  the  trees  ;  and  the  partridge  does  not 
rise  boldly,  but  darts  away  at  no  great  height  from  the  ground. 
Some  years  they  are  more  abundant  than  other  years.  This  is 
an  abundant  year.  There  are,  perhaps,  fifty  coveys  within  half  a 
mile  of  my  house. 

382  The  wood-cocks  are,  in  all  respects,  like  those  in  England, 
except  that  they  are  only  about  three-fifths  of  the  size.  They 
breed  here  ;  and  are  in  such  numbers,  that  some  men  kill  twenty 
brace,  or  more  in  a  day.  Their  haunts  are  in  marshy  places,  or 
woods.  The  shooting  of  them  lasts  from  the  fourth  of  July  till 
the  kardish  frosts  come.  The  last  we  killed  this  year  was  killed 
on  the  2.1st  of  November.  So  that  here  are  five  months  of  this  sport, 
and  pheasants  and  partridges  are  shot  from  September  to  April. 

383.  The  snipes  are  called  English  snipes,  which  they  resemble 
166 


RURAL  SPORTS 


in  all  respects,  and  are  found  in  great  abundance  in  the  usual 
haunts  of  snipes. 

384.  The  grouse  is  precisely  like  the  Scotch  grouse.  There  is 
only  here  and  there  a  place  where  they  are  found.  But,  they  are, 
in  those  places,  killed  in  great  quantities  in  the  fall  of  the  year. 

385.  As  to  wild  ducks  and  other  water-fowl,  which  are  come  at 
by  lying  in  wait,  and  killed  most  frequently  swimming,  or  sitting, 
they  are  slaughtered  in  whole  flocks.  An  American  counts  the 
cost  of  powder  and  shot.  If  he  is  deliberate  in  every  thing  else, 
this  habit  will  hardly  forsake  him  in  the  act  of  shooting.  When 
the  sentimental  flesh-eaters  hear  the  report  of  his  gun,  they  may 
begin  to  pull  out  their  white  handkerchiefs  ;  for  death  follows 
his  pull  of  the  trigger,  with  perhaps,  even  more  certainty  than 
it  used  to  follow  the  lancet  of  Doctor  Rush. 

386.  The  Plover  is  a  fine  bird,  and  is  found  in  great  numbers 
upon  the  plains,  and  in  the  cultivated  fields,  of  this  Island,  and 
at  a  mile  from  my  house.  Plovers  are  very  shy  and  wary  :  but 
they  have  ingenious  enemies  to  deal  with.  A  waggon,  or  carriage 
of  some  sort,  is  made  use  of  to  approach  them  ;  and  then  they  are 
easily  killed. 

387.  Rabbits  are  very  abundant  in  some  places.  They  are 
killed  by  shooting  ;  for  all  here  is  done  with  the  gun.  No  reliance 
is  placed  upon  a  dog. 

388.  As  to  game-laws  there  are  none,  except  those  which  appoint 
the  times  for  killing.  People  go  where  they  like,  and,  as  to  wild 
animals,  shoot  what  they  like.  There  is  the  Common  Law, 
which  forbids  trespass,  and  the  Statute  Law,  I  believe,  of 
"  malicious  trespass ,"  or  trespass  after  warning.  And  these  are 
more  than  enough  ;  for  nobody,  that  I  ever  hear  of,  warns  people 
off.  So  that,  as  far  as  shooting  goes,  and  that  is  the  sport  which 
is  the  most  general  favourite,  there  never  was  a  more  delightful 
country  than  this  Island.  The  sky  is  so  fair,  the  soil  so  dry, 
the  cover  so  convenient,  the  game  so  abundant,  and  the  people, 
go  where  you  will,  so  civil,  hospitable,  and  kind. 


167 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PAUPERS. 

389.  It  is  a  subject  of  great  exultation  in  the  hireling  newspapers 
of  the  Borough- villains,  that  "  poverty  and  poor-rates  have  found 
"  their  way  to  America."  As  to  the  former  it  is  literally  true  ; 
for  the  poverty  that  is  here  has,  almost  the  whole  of  it,  come  from 
Europe  :  but,  the  means  of  keeping  the  poor  arise  here  upon  the 
spot. 

390.  Great  sums  of  money  are  raised  in  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Boston,  and  other  great  sea-ports,  for  the  maintenance  of  "  the 
poor  "  :  and,  the  Boroughmongers  eagerly  catch  at  the  published 
accounts  of  this  concern,  and  produce  them  as  proofs,  that  misery 
is  as  great  in  America  as  it  is  under  their  iron  rod.  I  will  strip 
them  of  this  pretext  in  a  few  minutes. 

391.  Let  us  take  New  York,  for  instance.  It  is  notorious  that, 
whatever  may  be  the  number  of  persons  relieved  by  poor  rates, 
the  greater  part  of  them  are  Europeans,  who  have  come  hither,  at 
different  periods  and  under  circumstances  of  distress,  different, 
of  course,  in  degree.  There  is,  besides,  a  class  of  persons  here  of 
a  description  very  peculiar  ;  namely  ;  the  free  negroes.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  motives,  which  led  to  their  emancipation, 
it  is  very  certain,  that  it  has  saddled  the  white  people  with  a  charge. 
These  negroes  are  a  disorderly,  improvident  set  of  beings  ;  and 
the  paupers,  in  the  country,  consist  almost  wholly  of  them.  Take 
out  the  foreigners  and  the  negroes,  and  you  will  find,  that  the 
paupers  of  New  York  do  not  amount  to  a  hundredth  part  of  those 
of  Liverpool,  Bristol,  Birmingham,  or  London,  population  for 
population.  New  York  is  a  sea-port,  and  the  only  great  sea-port 
of  a  large  district  of  country.  All  the  disorderly  crowd  to  it. 
It  teems  with  emigrants  ;  but,  even  there,  a  pauper,  who  is  a 
white,  native  American,  is  a  great  rarity. 

392.  But,  do  the  Borough-villains  think,  that  the  word  pauper 
has  the  same  meaning  here  that  it  has  under  their  scorpion  rod  ? 
A  pauper  under  them  means  a  man  that  is  able  and  willing  to  work, 
and  who  does  work  like  a  horse  :  and  who  is  so  taxed,  has  so  much 
of  his  earnings  taken  from  him  by  them  to  pay  the  interest  of  their 
Debt  and  the  pensions  of  themselves  and  their  wives,  children,  and 
dependents,  that  he  is  actually  starving  and  fainting  at  his  work. 

168 


PAUPERS 


This  is  what  is  meant  by  a  pauper  in  England.  But,  at  New  York, 
a  pauper  is,  generally,  a  man  who  is  unable,  or,  which  is  more 
frequently  the  case,  unwilling  to  work  ;  who  is  become  debilitated 
from  a  vicious  life  ;  or,  who,  like  Boroughmongers  and  Priests, 
finds  it  more  pleasant  to  live  upon  the  labour  of  others  tnan  upon 
his  own  labour.  A  pauper  in  England  is  fed  upon  bones,  garbage, 
refuse  meat,  and  "  substitutes  for  bread."  A  pauper  here  expects, 
and  has,  as  much  flesh,  fish  and  bread  and  cake  as  he  can  devour. 
How  gladly  would  many  a  little  tradesman,  or  even  little  farmer, 
in  England,  exchange  his  diet  for  that  of  a  New  York  pauper  ! 

393.  Where  there  are  such  paupers  as  those  in  England,  there 
are  beggars  :  because,  when  they  find,  that  they  are  nearly  starved 
in  the  former  character,  they  will  try  the  latter  in  spite  of  all  the 
vagrant  acts  that  any  hell-born  Funding  system  can  engender. 
And,  who  ever  saw  a  beggar  in  America  ?  "I  have  !  "  exclaims 
some  spye  of  the  Boroughmongers,  who  hopes  to  become  a 
Boroughmonger  himself.  And  so  have  I  too.  I  have  seen  a 
couple  since  I  have  been  on  this  Island  ;  and  of  them  I  will  speak 
presently.  But  there  are  different  sorts  of  beggars  too  as  well  as 
of  paupers.  In  England  a  beggar  is  a  poor  creature,  with  hardly 
rags  (mere  rags)  sufficient  to  cover  its  nakedness,  so  far  even  as 
common  decency  requires.  A  wretched  mortal,  the  bare  sight 
of  whom  would  freeze  the  soul  of  an  American  within  him.  A 
dejected,  broken  down  thing,  that  approaches  you  bare-headed, 
on  one  knee,  with  a  trembling  voice,  with  "  pray  bestow  your 
**  charity,  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ's  sake  have  compassion  on  a 
"  poor  soul  "  ;  and,  if  you  toss  a  halfpenny  into  his  ragged  hat, 
he  exclaims  in  an  extacy,  "  God  Almighty  bless  your  honour  I  " 
though  you,  perhaps,  be  but  a  shoe-black  yourself.  An  American 
beggar,  dressed  very  much  like  other  people,  walks  up  to  you  as 
boldly  as  if  his  pockets  were  crammed  with  money,  and,  with  a 
half  smile,  that  seems  to  say,  he  doubts  of  the  propriety  of  his 
conduct,  very  civilly  asks  you,  if  you  can  HELP  him  to  a  quarter 
of  a  dollar.  He  mostly  states  the  precise  sum  ;  and  never  sinks 
below  silver.  In  short,  there  is  no  begging,  properly  so  called. 
There  is  nothing  that  resembles  English  begging  even  in  the 
most  distant  degree. 

394.  I  have  now  been  here  twenty  months,  and  I  have  been 
visited  by  only  two  beggars.  The  first  was  an  Englishman,  and 
what  was  more  to  me,  a  Surrey  man  too  ;  a  native  of  Croydon. 
He  asked  me  if  I  could  help  him  to  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  ;  for,  it  is 
surprising  how  apt  scholars  they  are.  "  Yes,"  said  I,  "if  you 
"  will  help  my  men  to  do  some  work  first."  He  said  he  could  not 
do  that,  for  he  was  in  a  hurry.  I  told  him,  that,  if  a  man,  with  a 
dollar  a  day,  and  pork  for  the  tenth  part  of  a  dollar  a  pound,  could 
not  earn  his  living,  he  ought  to  be  hanged  ;  "  however,"  said  I, 
"  as  you  are  the  first  Surrey  man  I  ever  saw  in  America  besides 
"  myself,  if  you  be  not  hanged  before  this  day  week,  and  come  here 
"  again,  I  will  help  you  to  a  quarter  of  a  dollar."  -  He  came,  and 

(60 


PAUPERS 


I  kept  my  word.  The  second  beggar  was  an  Italian.  This  was 
a  personage  of  "  high  consideration."  He  was  introduced  to  the 
side  of  my  writing  table.  He  behaved  with  a  sort  of  dignified 
politeness,  mixed  with  somewhat  of  reserve,  as  if  he  thought  the 
person  to  whom  he  was  addressing  himself  a  very  good  sort  of 
man,  but  of  rank  inferior  to  himself.  We  could  not  understand 
each  other  at  first  ;  but,  we  got  into  French,  and  then  we  could 
talk.  He  having  laid  down  his  hat,  and  being  seated,  pulled  out 
a  large  parcel  of  papers,  amongst  which  was  a  certificate  from  the 
Secretary  of  State  of  His  Majesty  the  King  of  Sardinia,  duly  signed 
and  countersigned,  and  sealed  with  a  seal  having  the  armorial 
bearings  of  that  sovereign.  Along  with  this  respectable  paper 
was  an  English  translation  of  it,  done  at  New  York,  and  authen- 
ticated by  the  Mayor  and  a  Notary  Public,  with  all  due  formality. 
All  the  time  these  papers  were  opening,  I  was  wondering  what  this 
gentleman  could  be.  I  read,  and  stared,  and  read  again.  I  was 
struck  not  less  by  the  novelty  than  the  audacity  of  the  thing. 
"  So  then,"  said  I,  breaking  silence,  "  your  sovereign,  after  taxing 
"  you  to  your  ruin,  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  give  you 
"  credentials  to  show,  that  he  authorizes  you  to  beg  in  America  ; 
"  and,  not  only  for  yourself  but  for  others  ;  so  that  you  are  an 
"  accredited  ambassador  from  the  beggars  in  Sardinia  !  "  He 
found  he  was  got  into  wrong  hands  ;  and  endeavoured  to  put  an 
end  to  the  negociation  at  once,  by  observing,  that  I  was  not  forced 
to  give,  and  that  my  simple  negative  was  enough.  "  I  beg  your 
"  pardon,  Sir,"  said  I,  "  you  have  submitted  your  case  to  me  ; 
"  yqu  have  made  an  appeal  to  me  ;  your  statement  contains 
"  reasons  for  my  giving  ;  and  that  gives  me  a  right  to  shew,  if 
"  I  can,  why  I  ought  not  to  give."  He  then,  in  order  to  prevent 
all  reasoning,  opened  his  Subscription,  or  Begging-book,  and  said  : 
"  you  see,  Sir,  others  give  !  "  "  Now,"  said  I,  "  you  reason,  but 
"  your  reasoning  is  defective  :  for,  if  you  were  to  shew  me,  that 
"  you  had  robbed  all  my  neighbours  without  their  resenting  it, 
"  would  it  follow  that  I  must  let  you  rob  me  too  ?  "  "  Ah  !  par 
"  bleu,"  said  he,  snatching  up  his  credentials,  "  je  vois  que  vous 
"  ites  un  avare."  Ah  !  by  Old  Nick,  I  see  you  are  a  Miser. — And 
off  he  went  ;  not,  however,  before  I  had  had  time  to  tell  him  to  be 
sure  to  give  my  best  respects  to  the  king  of  Sardinia,  and  to  tell 
His  Majesty  to  keep  his  beggars  at  home. 

395.  I  afterwards  found,  that  cases  like  this  are  by  no  means 
rare  ;  and  that,  in  Pennsylvania,  in  particular,  they  have  accredited 
beggars  from  all  parts  of  the  continent  of  Europe.  This  may  be 
no  unuseful  hint  for  the  English  Boroughmongers,  who  have  an 
undoubted  claim  to  precedence  before  the  German  and  Italian 
beggars.  The  Boroughmongers  may  easily  add  a  legation  of 
mendicity  to  their  Envoyships  and  Consulships,  without  any 
great  disgrace  to  the  latter  ;  and,  since  they  can  get  nothing  out 
of  America  by  bullying  and  attacking,  try  what  can  be  gained  by 
canting  and  begging.     The  chances  are,  however,  that  many  of 

170 


PAUPERS 

them  will,  before  they  die,  be  beggars  in  their  own  proper  persons 
and  for  their  own  use  and  behoof  ;  and  thus  give  a  complete 
rounding  to  their  career  ;  plunderers  in  prosperity,  and  beggars 
in  adversity. 

396.  As  to  the  poor-rates,  the  real  poor-rates,  you  must  look  to 
the  country.  In  England  the  poor-rates  equal  in  amount  the  rent 
of  the  land  !  Here,  I  pay,  in  poor-rates,  only  seven  dollars  upon 
a  rent  of  six  hundred  !  And  I  pay  my  full  share.  In  short,  how 
is  it  possible,  that  there  should  be  paupers  to  any  amount,  where 
the  common  average  wages  of  a  labourer  are  six  dollars  a  week  ; 
that  is  to  say,  twenty -seven  shillings  sterling,  and  where  the 
necessaries  of  life  are,  upon  an  average,  of  half  the  price  that  they 
are  in  England  ?  How  can  a  man  be  a  pauper,  where  he  can  earn 
ten  pounds  of  prime  hog-meat  a  day,  six  days  in  every  week  ? 
I  was  at  a  horse-race,  where  I  saw  at  least  five  thousand  men,  and 
not  one  man  in  shabby  clothes. 

397.  But,  some  go  back  after  they  come  from  England  ;  and  the 
Consul  at  New  York  has  thousands  of  applications  from  men 
who  want  to  go  to  Canada  :  and  little  bands  of  them  go  off  to  that 
fine  country  very  often.  These  are  said  to  be  disappointed  people. 
Yes,  they  expected  the  people  at  New  York  to  come  out  in  boats, 
I  suppose,  carry  them  on  shore,  and  give  up  their  dinners  and  beds 
to  them  !  If  they  will  work,  they  will  soon  find  beds  and  dinners  : 
if  they  will  not,  they  ought  to  have  none.  What,  did  they  expect 
to  find  here  the  same  faces  and  the  same  posts  and  trees  that  they 
left  behind  them  ?  Such  foolish  people  are  not  worth  notice. 
The  lazy,  whether  male  or  female,  ail  hate  a  government,  under 
which  every  one  enjoys  his  earnings,  and  no  more.  Low,  poor 
and  miserable  as  they  may  be,  their  principle  is  precisely  the  same 
as  that  of  Boroughmongers  and  Priests  :  namely,  to  live  without 
labour  on  the  earnings  of  others.  The  desire  to  live  thus  is  almost 
universal  ;  but  with  sluggards,  thieves,  Boroughmongers,  and 
Priests,  it  is  a  principle  of  action.  Ask  a  Priest  why  he  is  a  Priest. 
He  will  say  (for  he  has  vowed  it  on  the  Altar  !)  that  he  believes 
himself  called  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  take  on  him  the  care  of  souls. 
But,  put  the  thing  close  to  him  ;  push  him  hard  ;  and  you  will 
find  it  was  the  benefice,  the  money  and  the  tithes,  that  called  him. 
Ask  him  what  he  wanted  them  for.  That  he  might  live,  and  live, 
too,  without  work.  Oh  !  this  work  !  It  is  an  old  saying,  that,  if 
the  Devil  find  a  fellow  idle,  he  is  sure  to  set  him  to  work  ;  a  saying 
the  truth  of  which  the  Priests  seem  to  have  done  their  utmostfto 
establish. 

398.  Of  the  goers  back  was  a  Mr.  Onslow  Wakeford,  who  was 
a  coach-maker,  some  years,  in  Philadelphia,  and  who,  having, 
from  nothing  hardly  to  begin  with,  made  a  comfortable  fortune, 
went  back  about  the  time  that  I  returned  home.  I  met  him,  by 
accident,  at  Goodwood,  in  Sussex,  in  18 14.  We  talked  about 
America.  Said  he,  "  I  have  often  thought  of  the  foolish  zvay, 
'*  in  which  my  good  friend,  North,  and  I  used  to  talk  about  the 

171 


PAUPERS 


"  happy  state  of  England.  The  money  that  I  have  paid  in  taxes 
"  here,  would  have  kept  me  like  a  gentleman  there.  Why,"  added 
he,  "  if  a  labouring  man  here  were  seen  having  in  his  possession, 
"  the  fowls  and  other  things  that  labourers  in  Philadelphia  carry 
"  home  from  market,  he  would  be  stopped  in  the  street,  and  taken 
"  up  on  suspicion  of  being  a  thief  :  upon  the  supposition  of  its 
"  being  impossible  that  he  could  have  come  honestly  by  them."  I 
told  this  story  after  I  got  home  ;  and  we  read  in  the  news-papers, 
not  long  afterwards,  that  a  Scotch  Porter,  in  London,  who  had  had 
a  little  tub  of  butter  sent  him  up  from  his  relations,  and  who  was, 
in  the  evening,  carrying  it  from  the  vessel  to  his  home,  had  actually 
been  seized  by  the  Police,  lodged  in  prison  all  night,  brought 
before  the  magistrate  the  next  day,  and  not  released  until  he  had 
produced  witnesses  to  prove  that  he  had  not  stolen  a  thing,  which 
was  thought  far  too  valuable  for  such  a  man  to  come  at  by  honest 
means  !  What  a  state  of  things  must  that  be  ?  What !  A  man 
in  England  taken  up  as  a  thief  and  crammed  into  prison,  merely 
because  he  was  in  possession  of  20  pounds  of  butter  ! 

399.  Mr.  Wakeford  is,  I  dare  say,  alive.  He  is  a  very  worthy 
man.  He  lives  at  Chichester.  I  appeal  to  him  for  the  truth  of 
the  anecdote  relating  to  him.  As  to  the  butter  story,  I  cannot  name 
the  precise  date  :  but,  I  seriously  declare  the  fact  to  have  been  as 
I  have  related  it.  I  told  Mr.  Wakeford,  who  is  a  very  quiet  man, 
that,  in  order  to  make  his  lot  in  England  as  good  as  it  was  in 
America,  he  must  help  us  to  destroy  the  Boroughmongers.  He 
left  America,  he  told  me,  principally  in  consequence  of  the  loss 
of  his  daughter  (an  only  child)  at  Philadelphia,  where  she,  amongst 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  others,  fell  before  the  desolating 
lancets  of  1797,  1798  and  1799. 


172 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

GOVERNMENT,   LAWS,   AND   RELIGION. 

400.  Mr.  Professor  Christian,  who  has  written  great  piles  of 
Notes  on  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  and  whose  Notes  differ  from 
those  of  the  Note-writers  on  the  Bible,  in  this,  that  the  latter  only 
tend  to  add  darkness  to  that  which  was  sufficiently  dark  before, 
while  the  Professor's  Notes,  in  every  instance,  without  a  single 
exception,  labour  most  arduously,  and  not  always  without  success, 
to  render  that  obscure,  which  was  before  clear  as  the  sun  now  is 
in  Long  Island,  on  this  most  beautiful  fifth  of  December,  181 8  : 
this  Professor,  who,  I  believe,  is  now  a  Judge,  has,  in  his  Note 
126  on  Book  I,  drawn  what  he  calls  "  a  distinction  "  between 
Political  and  Civil  Liberty,  which  distinction  contains  as  to  ideas, 
manner,  and  expressions,  a  complete  specimen  of  what,  in  such  a 
case,  a  writer  ought  to  avoid. 

401.  Leaving  definitions  of  this  sort  to  such  conceited  bunglers 
as  the  Professor,  I  will  just  give  a  sketch  (for  it  can  be  nothing 
more)  of  the  Government  and  Laws  of  this  country. 

402.  The  country  is  divided  into  States.  Each  of  these  States 
has  its  own  separate  government,  consisting  of  a  Governor, 
Legislative  Body,  and  Judiciary  Department.  But,  then  there  is 
a  General  Government,  which  is,  in  fact,  the  government  of  the 
whole  nation  :  for,  it  alone  can  do  any  thing  with  regard  to  other 
nations.  This  General  Government  consists  of  a  President^ 
a  Senate,  a  House  of  Representatives,  all  which  together  are  called 
the  Congress.  The  President  is  elected  for  four  years,  the  Senate 
for  four  years,  and  the  House  of  Representatives  for  two  years. 

403.  In  most  of  the  State- Governments,  the  election  is  annual 
for  the  House  of  Representatives.  In  some  the  Governor  and  the 
Senate  are  elected  for  a  longer  period,  not  exceeding  four  years 
in  any  case.  But,  in  some,  the  whole,  Governor,  Senate,  and 
Representatives,  are  elected  ANNUALLY  ;  and  this  last  appears 
now  to  be  the  prevailing  taste. 

404.  The  suffrage,  or  qualification  of  electors,  is  very  various. 
In  some  States  every  free  man  ;  that  is,  every  man  who  is  not 
bondman  or  slave,  has  a  vote.  In  others,  the  payment  of  a  tax 
is  required.  In  others,  a  man  must  be  worth  a  hundred  pounds. 
In  Virginia  a  man  must  be  a  freeholder. 

N  173 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


405.  This  may  serve  to  show  how  little  Mr.  Jerry  Bentham, 
the  new  Mentor  of  the  Westminster  Telemachus,  knows  about 
the  political  part  of  the  American  governments.  Jerry,  whose 
great,  and,  indeed,  only  argument,  in  support  of  annual  parlia- 
ments and  universal  suffrage,  is,  that  America  is  so  happy  under 
such  a  system,  has,  if  we  were  to  own  him,  furnished  our  enemies 
with  a  complete  answer  ;  for,  they  have,  in  order  to  silence  him, 
only  to  refer  to  the  facts  of  his  argument  of  happy  experience. 
By  silencing  him,  however,  I  do  not  mean,  the  stopping  of  his 
tongue,  or  pen  ;  for  nothing  but  mortality  will  ever  do  that. 
This  everlasting  babbler  has  aimed  a  sort  of  stiletto  stroke  at  me  ; 
jot  what  God  knows,  except  it  be  to  act  a  consistent  part,  by 
endeavouring  to  murder  the  man  whom  he  has  so  frequently 
robbed,  and  whose  facts  and  thoughts,  though  disguised  and 
disgraced  by  the  robber's  quaint  phraseology,  constitute  the  better 
part  of  his  book.  Jerry,  who  was  made  a  Reformer  by  Pitt's 
refusal  to  give  him  a  contract  to  build  a  penitentiary,  and  to  make  him 
prime  administrator  of  penance,  that  is  to  say,  Beggar- Whipper 
General,  is  a  very  proper  person  to  be  toasted  by  those,  who  have 
plotted  and  conspired  against  Major  Cartwright.  Mr.  Brougham 
praises  Jerry  :  that  is  enough  ! 

406.  In  the  four  New  England  States,  the  qualification  was  a 
hundred  pounds.  But,  one  of  those  States,  Connecticut,  has, 
to  her  great  honour,  recently  set  an  example  worthy  of  the  imitation 
of  the  other  three.  A  new  constitution  has,  during  this  year,  been 
formed  in  that  State,  according  to  which  all  the  elections  are  to  be 
annual  :  and,  as  to  the  suffrage,  I  will  give  it  in  the  words  of  the 
instrument  itself :  "  Every  male  white  citizen  of  the  United 
"  States,  who  shall  have  gained  a  settlement  in  this  state,  attained 
"  the  age  of  twenty- one  years,  and  resided  in  the  town  Fthat  is 
"  parish  in  the  English  meaning]  in  which  he  may  offer  himself 
*'  to  be  admitted  to  the  privilege  of  being  an  elector,  at  least  six 
"  months  preceding,  and  have  a  freehold  estate  of  the  yearly  value 
**  of  seven  dollars  in  this  State  : — OR,  having  been  enrolled  in 
"  the  militia,  shall  have  performed  military  duty  therein  for  the 
"  term  of  one  year,  next  preceding  the  time  he  shall  offer  himself 
"  for  admission,  or,  being  liable  thereto,  shall  have  been,  by 
"  authority  of  law,  altogether  excused  therefrom  ; — OR,  shall 
"  have  paid  a  State  Tax  within  the  year  next  preceding  the  time 
"  he  shall  present  himself  for  admission,  and  shall  sustain  a  good 
"  moral  character,  shall,  on  his  taking  the  oath  prescribed,  be 
"  an  elector." 

407.  And  then,  the  proof  of  bad  moral  character,  is,  "a  con- 
"  viction  of  bribery,  forgery,  perjury,  duelling,  fraudulent  bank- 
**  ruptcy,  theft,  or  other  offences,  for  which  an  infamous  punish- 
"  ment  is  inflicted."  By  forgery  is  not,  of  course,  contemplated 
puff-out  forgery  ;  for  that,  as  an  act  of  resistance  of  oppression,  is 
fully  justifiable  :  it  is  not  only  not  an  immoral,  but  it  is  a  meri- 
torious act.     The  forgery  here  meant  is  forgery  committed  against 

174 


AND  RELIGION 


honest  men,  who,  when  they  "  promise  to  pay"  mean  to  pay,  and 
do  pay  when  called  upon.  "  Bribery  "  is  very  properly  set  at  the 
head  of  the  disqualifications  ;  but,  what  a  nest  of  villains  it  would 
exclude  in  England  !  White  men  are  mentioned,  but,  another 
clause,  admits  all  the  Blacks  now  free,  though  it  shuts  out  future 
comers  of  that  colour,  or  of  the  yellow  hue  ;  which  is  perfectly 
just  ;  for,  Connecticut  is  not  to  be  the  receptacle  of  those,  whom 
other  States  may  choose  to  release  from  slavery,  seeing  that  she 
has  now  no  slaves  of  her  own. 

408.  Thus,  then,  this  new  Constitution  ;  a  constitution  formed 
by  the  steadiest  community  in  the  whole  world  ;  a  constitution 
dictated  by  the  most  ample  experience,  gives  to  the  people,  as  to  the 
three  branches  of  the  government  (the  Governor,  Senate,  and 
Representatives)  precisely  what  we  reformers  in  England  ask  as  to 
only  one  branch  out  of  the  three.  Whoever  has  a  freehold  worth 
a  guinea  and  a  half  a  year,  though  he  pay  no  tax,  and  though  he 
be  not  enrolled  in  the  militia,  has  a  vote.  Whoever  pays  a  tax, 
though  he  be  not  enrolled  in  the  militia,  and  have  no  freehold, 
has  a  vote.  Whoever  is  enrolled  in  the  militia,  though  he  have 
no  freehold  and  pay  no  tax,  has  a  vote.  So  that  nothing  but 
beggars,  paupers,  and  criminals,  can  easily  be  excluded  ;  and,  you 
will  observe,  if  you  please,  Messieurs  Boroughmongers,  that  the 
State  taxes  are  all  direct,  and  so  contemptible  in  amount,  as  not 
to  be,  all  taken  together,  enough  to  satisfy  the  maw  of  a  single 
sinecure  place-man  in  England  ;  and  that  the  Electors  choose, 
and  annually  too,  King,  Lords,  and  Commons.  Now,  mind,  this 
change  has  been  deliberately  made  by  the  most  deliberate  people 
that  ever  lived  on  the  earth.  New  England  is  called,  and  truly, 
"  the  Land  of  Steady  Habits  "  ;  but,  a  Connecticut  man  is  said 
to  be  a  "  full-blooded  Yankey,"  and  Yankey  means  New  Englander. 
So  that,  here  are  the  steadiest  of  the  steady  adopting,  after  all  their 
usual  deliberation  and  precaution,  in  a  time  of  profound  tran- 
quillity, and  without  any  party  spirit  or  delusion,  the  plan  of  us 
"  zoild  and  mad  "  Reformers  of  Old  England.  Please  God,  I  will, 
before  I  go  home,  perform  a  pilgrimage  into  this  State  ! 

409.  In  Virginia,  and  the  States  where  negro  slavery  exists,  the 
slaves  are  reckoned  amongst  the  population  in  apportioning  the  seats 
in  the  General  Congress.  So  that,  the  slaves  do  not  vote  ;  but, 
their  owners  have  votes  for  them.  This  is  what  Davis  Giddy, 
Wilberforce,  and  the  Spawn  of  the  Green  Room,  call  virtual 
representation.  And  this,  to  be  sure,  is  what  Sir  Francis 
Burdett,  in  his  speech  at  the  Reading  Dinner,  meant  by  universal 
INTERESTS  !  From  universal  suffrage,  he  came  down  to 
general  suffrage  ;  this  was  only  nonsense  :  but,  universal  IN- 
TERESTS is  downright  borough-mongering.  Well  may  he 
despair  of  doing  any  good  in  the  House  of  Commons  !  "  Universal 
interests  "  is  the  Virginian  plan  ;  and,  in  that  state  of  things,  by  no 
means  unwise  or  unjust ;  for,  it  is  easier  to  talk  about  freeing  black 
slaves,  then  it  is  to  do  it.     The  planters  in  the  Southern  States  are 

*75 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


not  to  blame  for  having  slaves,  until  some  man  will  show  how 
they  are  to  get  rid  of  them.  No  one  has  yet  discovered  the  means. 
Virtual  representation,  or,  in  other  words,  Universal  interests, 
is  as  good  a  thing  as  any  one  can  devise  for  those  States  ;  and,  if 
Sir  Francis  will  but  boldly  declare,  that  the  people  of  England 
must  necessarily  remain  slaves,  his  joining  of  Davis  Giddy  and 
Canning,  will  be  very  consistent.  Let  him  black  the  skins  of  the 
people  of  England,  and  honestly  call  a  part  of  them  his  property, 
and  then  he  will  not  add  the  meanest  to  the  most  dastardly 
apostacy. 

410.  The  right  of  suffrage  in  America  is,  however,  upon  the 
whole,  sufficient  to  guard  the  people  against  any  general  and  long- 
existing  abuse  of  power  ;  for,  let  it  be  borne  in  mind,  that  here 
the  people  elect  all  the  persons,  who  are  to  exercise  power  ;  while, 
even  if  our  Reform  were  obtained,  there  would  still  be  two  branches 
out  of  the  three,  over  whom  the  people  would  have  no  direct 
control.  Besides,  in  England,  Ireland,  and  Scotland,  there  is 
an  established  Church  :  a  richly  endowed  and  powerful  hierarchy  ; 
and  this,  which  is  really  a  fourth  branch  of  the  government,  has 
nothing  to  resemble  it  in  America.  So  that,  in  this  country, 
the  whole  of  the  Government  may  be  truly  said  to  be  in  the  hands 
of  the  people.  The  people  are,  in  reality  as  well  as  in  name, 
represented. 

411.  The  consequences  of  this  are,  ist,  that,  if  those  who  are 
chosen  do  not  behave  well,  they  are  not  chosen  a  second  time  :  2nd, 
that  there  are  no  sinecure  placemen  and  place  women,  grantees, 
pensioners  without  services,  and  big  placemen  v/ho  swallow  the 
earnings  of  two  or  three  thousand  men  each  ;  3rd,  that  there  is  no 
military  staff  to  devour  more  than  the  whole  of  a  government 
ought  to  cost  ;  4th,  that  there  are  no  proud  and  insolent  grasping 
Boroughmongers,  who  make  the  people  toil  and  sweat  to  keep 
them  and  their  families  in  luxury  ;  5th,  that  seats  in  the  Congress 
are  not  like  stalls  in  Smithfield,  bought  and  sold,  or  hired  out ; 
6th,  that  the  Members  of  Congress  do  not  sell  their  votes  at  so 
much  a  vote  ;  7th,  that  there  is  no  waste  of  the  public  money,  and 
no  expenses  occasioned  by  the  bribing  of  electors,  or  by  the  hiring 
of  Spies  and  informers  ;  8th,  that  there  are  no  shootings  of  the 
people,  and  no  legal  murders  committed,  in  order  to  defend  the 
government  against  the  just  vengeance  of  an  oppressed  and 
insulted  nation.  But,  all  is  harmony,  peace  and  prosperity. 
Every  man  is  zealous  in  defence  of  the  laws,  because  every  man 
knows  that  he  is  governed  by  laws,  to  which  he  has  really  and 
truly  given  his  assent. 

412.  As  to  the  nature  of  the  Laws,  the  Common  Law  of  England 
is  the  Common  Law  of  America.  These  States  were  formerly 
Colonies  of  England.  Our  Boroughmongers  wished  to  tax  them 
"without  their  own  consent.  But,  the  Colonies,  standing  upon  the 
ancient  Lav/s  of  England,  which  say  that  no  man  shall  be  taxed 
without  his  ozon  consent,  resisted  the  Boroughmongers  of  that  day  ; 

**6 


AND  RELIGION 


overcame  them  in  war  ;  cast  off  all  dependence,  and  became  free 
and  independent  States.  But,  the  great  men,  who  conducted 
that  Revolution,  as  well  as  the  people  in  general,  were  too  wise  to 
cast  off  the  excellent  laws  of  their  forefathers.  They,  therefore, 
declared,  that  the  Common  Law  of  England  should  remain,  being 
subject  to  such  modifications  as  might  be  necessary  in  the  new 
circumstances  in  which  the  people  were  placed.  The  Common 
Law  means,  the  ancient  and  ordinary  usages  and  customs  of  the  land 
with  regard  to  the  means  of  protecting  property  and  persons  and  of 
punishing  crimes.  This  law  is  no  vjritten  or  printed  thing.  It  is 
more  ancient  than  books.  It  had  its  origin  in  the  hearts  of  our 
forefathers,  and  it  has  lived  in  the  hearts  of  their  sons,  from 
generation  to  generation.  Hence  it  is  emphatically  called  the 
Law  of  the  Land.  Juries,  Judges,  Courts  of  Justice,  Sheriffs, 
Constables,  Head-boroughs,  Hey  wards,  Justices  of  the  Peace 
and  all  their  numerous  and  useful  powers  and  authorities,  make 
part  of  this  Lavj  of  the  Land.  The  Boroughmongers  would  fain 
persuade  us,  that  it  is  they  who  have  given  us  this  Law,  out  of  pure 
generosity.  But,  we  should  bear  in  mind,  that  this  Law  is  more 
ancient,  and  far  more  ancient,  than  the  titles  of  even  the  most 
ancient  of  their  families.  And,  accordingly,  when  the  present 
Royal  Family  were  placed  upon  the  throne,  there  was  a  solemn 
declaration  by  the  Parliament  in  these  words  :  "  The  Laws  of 
"  England  are  the  Birthright  of  the  People  of  England."  The 
Boroughmongers,  by  giving  new  powers  to  Justices  of  the  Peace 
and  Judges,  setting  aside  the  trial  by  Jury  in  many  cases,  both  of 
property  and  person,  even  before  the  present  horrible  acts  ;  and 
by  a  thousand  other  means,  have,  by  Acts  of  Parliament,  greatly 
despoiled  us  of  the  Law  of  the  Land  :  but,  never  have  they  given 
us  any  one  good  in  addition  to  it. 

413.  The  Americans  have  taken  special  care  to  prevent  the  like 
encroachments  on  their  rights  :  so  that,  while  they  have  Courts  of 
Justice,  Juries,  Judges,  Sheriffs,  and  the  rest,  as  we  have  ;  while 
they  have  all  the  good  part  of  the  Laws  now  in  force  in  England, 
they  have  none  of  the  bad.  They  have  none  of  that  Statute 
Law  of  England,  or  Act  of  Parliament  Lazv,  which  has  robbed  us 
of  a  great  part,  and  the  best  part  of  our  "  Birthright." 

414.  It  is,  as  I  said  before,  not  my  intention  to  go  much  into 
particulars  here  ;  but,  I  cannot  refrain  from  noticing,  that  the 
People  of  America,  when  they  come  to  settle  their  new  govern- 
ments, took  special  care  to  draw  up  specific  Constitutions,  in  which 
they  forbade  any  of  their  future  law-makers  to  allow  of  any  Titles 
of  Nobility,  any  Privileged  Class,  any  Established  Church,  or,  to 
pass  any  law  to  give  to  any  body  the  power  of  imprisoning  men 
otherwise  than  in  due  course  of  Common  Law,  except  in  cases  of 
actual  invasion  or  open  rebellion.  And,  though  actual  invasion 
took  place  several  times  during  the  late  war  ;  though  the  Capital 
city  was  in  possession  of  our  troops,  no  such  law  was  passed. 

177 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


Such  is  the  effect  of  that  confidence,  which  a  good  and  just  govern- 
ment has  in  the  people  whom  it  governs  ! 

415.  There  is  one  more  particular,  as  to  the  Laws  of  America, 
on  which,  as  it  is  of  very  great  importance,  I  think  it  right  to 
remark.  The  uses,  which  have  been  made  of  the  Law  of  Libel  in 
England  are  well  known.  In  the  first  place,  the  Common  Law 
knows  of  no  such  offence  as  that  of  criminal  libel,  for  which  so 
many  men  have  been  so  cruelly  punished  in  England.  The  crime 
is  an  invention  of  late  date.  The  Common  Law  punished  men 
for  breaches  of  the  peace,  but  no  words,  whether  written  or  spoken, 
can  be  a  breach  of  the  peace.  But,  then  some  Boroughmonger 
judges  said,  that  words  might  tend  to  produce  a  breach  of  the  peace  ; 
and  that,  therefore,  it  was  criminal  to  use  such  words.  This, 
though  a  palpable  stretch  of  law,  did,  however,  by  usage,  become 
law  so  far  as  to  be  acted  upon  in  America  as  well  as  in  England  ; 
and,  when  I  lived  in  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  eighteen  years 
ago,  the  Chief  Justice  of  that  State,  finding  even  this  law  not 
sufficiently  large,  gave  it  another  stretch  to  make  it  fit  me. 
Whether  the  Legislature  of  that  State  will  repair  this  act  of 
injustice  and  tyranny  remains  yet  to  be  seen. 

416.  The  State  of  New  York,  in  which  I  now  live,  awakened, 
probably  by  the  act  of  tyranny,  to  which  I  allude,  has  taken  care, 
by  an  Act  of  the  State,  passed  in  1805,  to  put  an  end  to  those 
attacks  on  the  press  by  charges  of  constructive  libel,  or,  at  least,  to 
make  the  law  such,  that  no  man  shall  suffer  from  the  preferring 
of  any  such  charges  unjustly. 

417.  The  principal  effect  of  this  twisting  of  the  law  was,  that, 
whether  the  words  published  were  true  ox  false  the  crime  of  pub- 
lishing was  the  same  :  because,  whether  true  or  false,  they  tended 
to  a  breach  of  the  peace  I  Nay,  there  was  a  Boroughmonger  Judge 
in  England,  who  had  laid  it  down  as  law,  that  the  truer  the  words 
were,  the  more  criminal  was  the  libel  ;  because,  said  he,  a  breach 
of  the  peace  was  more  likely  to  be  produced  by  telling  truth  of  a 
villain,  than  by  telling  falsehood  of  a  virtuous  man.  In  point  of 
fact,  this  was  true  enough,  to  be  sure  ;  but  what  an  infamous 
doctrine  !  What  a  base,  what  an  unjust  mind  must  this  man 
have  had  ! 

418.  The  State  of  New  York,  ashamed  that  there  should  any 
longer  be  room  for  such  miserable  quibbling  ;  ashamed  to  leave 
the  Liberty  of  the  Press  exposed  to  the  changes  and  chances  of  a 
doctrine  so  hostile  to  common  sense  as  well  as  to  every  principle 
of  freedom,  passed  an  Act,  which  makes  the  truth  of  any  pub- 
lication a  justification  of  it,  provided  the  publisher  can  shew,  that 
the  publication  was  made  with  good  motives  and  justifiable  ends  : 
and  who  can  possibly  publish  truth  without  being  able  to  shew 
good  motives  and  justifiable  ends  ?  To  expose  and  censure 
tyranny,  profligacy,  fraud,  hypocrisy,  debauchery,  drunkenness  : 
indeed,  all  sorts  of  wickedness  and  folly  ;  and  to  do  this  in  the 
words  of  truth,  must  tend,  cannot  fail  to  tend,  to  check  wickedness 

178 


AND  RELIGION 


and  folly,  and  to  strengthen  and  promote  virtue  and  wisdom  ; 
and  these  only,  are  the  uses  of  the  press.  I  know  it  has  been  said, 
for  I  have  heard  it  said,  that  this  is  going  too  far  :  that  it  would 
tend  to  lay  open  the  private  affairs  of  families.  And  what  then  ? 
Wickedness  and  folly  should  meet  their  due  measure  of  censure, 
or  ridicule,  be  they  found  where  they  may.  If  the  faults  of  private 
persons  were  too  trifling  to  deserve  public  notice,  the  mention  of 
them  would  give  the  parties  no  pain,  and  the  publisher  would  be 
despised  for  his  tittle-tattle  ;  that  is  all.  And,  if  they  were  of  a 
nature  so  grave  as  for  the  exposure  of  them  to  give  the  parties 
pain,  the  exposure  would  be  useful,  as  a  warning  to  others. 

419.  Amongst  the  persons  whom  I  have  heard  express  a  wish, 
to  see  the  press  what  they  called  free,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
extend  the  restraints  on  it,  with  regard  to  persons  in  their  private 
life,  beyond  the  obligation  of  adherence  to  truth,  I  have  never,  that 
I  know  of,  met  with  one,  who  had  not  some  powerful  motive  of 
his  own  for  the  wish,  and  who  did  not  feel  that  he  had  some 
vulnerable  part  about  himself.  The  common  observation  of 
these  persons,  is,  that  public  men  are  fair  game.  Why  public  men 
only  ?  Is  it  because  their  wickedness  and  folly  affect  the  public  ? 
And,  how  long  has  it  been,  I  should  be  glad  to  know,  since  bad 
example  in  private  life  has  been  thought  of  no  consequence  to  the 
public  ?  The  press  is  called  "  the  guardian  of  the  public  morals  "  ; 
but,  if  it  is  to  meddle  with  none  of  the  vices  or  follies  of  individuals 
in  private  life,  how  is  it  to  act  as  the  guardian  of  the  morals  of  the 
whole  community  ?  A  press  perfectly  free,  reaches  these  vices, 
which  the  law  cannot  reach  without  putting  too  much  power  into 
the  hands  of  the  magistrate.  Extinguish  the  press,  and  you  must 
let  the  magistrate  into  every  private  house.  The  experience  of  the 
world  suggests  this  remark  ;  for,  look  where  you  will,  you  will  see 
virtue  in  all  the  walks  of  life  hand  in  hand  with  freedom  of  dis- 
cussion, and  vice  hand  in  hand  with  censorships  and  other  laws 
to  cramp  the  press.  England,  once  so  free,  so  virtuous  and  so 
happy,  has  seen  misery  and  crimes  increase  and  the  criminal  laws 
multiply  in  the  exact  proportion  of  the  increase  of  the  restraints 
on  the  press  and  of  the  increase  of  the  severity  in  punishing  what 
are  called  libels.  And,  if  this  had  not  taken  place  it  would  have 
been  very  wonderful.  Men  who  have  the  handling  of  the  public 
money,  and  who  know  that  the  parliament  is  such  as  to  be  silenced, 
will  be  very  apt  to  squander  that  money  ;  this  squandering  causes 
heavy  taxes  ;  these  produce  misery  amongst  the  greater  number  of 
the  people  ;  this  misery  produces  crimes  ;  to  check  these  new 
penal  laws  are  passed.  Thus  it  is  in  England,  where  new  hanging 
places,  new  and  enlarged  jails,  prisons  on  the  water,  new  modes  of 
transporting,  a  new  species  of  peace  officers,  a  new  species  of 
Justices  of  the  Peace,  troops  employed  regularly  in  aid  of  the 
magistrate,  and  at  last,  spies  and  blood-money  bands,  all  proclaim 
a  real  revolution  in  the  nature  of  the  government.  If  the  press 
had  continued  free,  these  sad  effects  of  a  waste  of  the  public  money 

179 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


never  could  have  taken  place  ;  for,  the  wasters  of  that  money 
would  have  been  so  exposed  as  to  be  unable  to  live  under  the 
odium  which  the  exposure  would  have  occasioned  ;  and,  if  the 
parliament  had  not  checked  the  waste  and  punished  the  wasters, 
the  public  indignation  would  have  destroyed  the  parliament. 
But,  with  a  muzzled  press,  the  wasters  proceeded  with  the 
consciousness  of  impunity.  Say  to  any  individual  man  when  he 
is  20  years  of  age  :  "  You  shall  do  just  what  you  please  with  all 
"  the  money  of  other  people  that  you  can,  by  any  means,  all  your 
"  life  long,  get  into  your  hands,  and  no  one  shall  ever  be  permitted 
"  to  make  you  accountable,  or  even  to  write  or  speak  a  word 
"  against  you  for  any  act  of  fraud,  oppression,  or  waste."  Should 
you  expect  such  an  individual  to  act  honestly  and  wisely  ?  Yet, 
this,  in  fact,  is  what  a  Boroughmonger  Parliament  and  the  new 
Law  of  Libel  say  to  every  set  of  Ministers. 

420.  Before  I  quit  this  subject  of  Libel,  let  me  observe,  however, 
that  no  juryman,  even  as  the  law  now  stands  in  England,  is  in 
conscience  bound  to  find  any  man  guilty  on  a  charge  of  criminal 
libel,  unless  the  evidence  prove  that  the  pretended  libeller  has  been 
actuated  by  an  evil  motive,  and  unless  it  be  also  proved  by  evidence, 
that  his  words,  spoken  or  written,  were  scandalous  and  malicious. 
Unless  these  things  be  clearly  proved  by  evidence,  the  juryman, 
who  finds  a  man  guilty,  is  a  base,  perjured  villain  :  and  ought  to  be 
punished  as  such. 

421.  The  State  of  Connecticut,  in  her  new  Constitution,  before 
mentioned,  has  put  this  matter  of  libel  on  the  true  footing  ; 
namely  ;  "In  all  prosecutions  and  indictments  for  libel  the 
"  TRUTH  may  be  given  in  evidence,  and  the  Jury  shall  have  the 
"  right  to  determine  the  law  and  the  facts."  Thus,  then,  common 
sense  has,  at  last,  got  the  better  ;  and  TRUTH  can,  in  this  State, 
at  least,  in  no  case,  be  a  legal  crime.  But,  indeed,  the  press  has 
NOW  no  restraint  in  America,  other  than  that  imposed  by 
TRUTH.  Men  publish  what  they  please,  so  long  as  they  do 
not  publish  falsehoods  :  and,  even  in  such  cases,  they  are  generally 
punished  by  the  public  contempt.  The  press  is,  therefore,  taken 
altogether,  what  the  magistrate  always  ought  to  be  :  "  a  terror  to 
evil  doers,  and  a  reward  to  those  who  do  well."  But,  it  is  not  the 
name  of  REPUBLIC  that  secures  these,  or  any  other  of  the 
blessings  of  freedom.  As  gross  acts  of  tyranny  may  be  committed, 
and  as  base  corruption  practised,  under  that  name  as  under  the 
name  of  absolute  monarchy.  And,  it  becomes  the  people  of 
America  to  guard  their  minds  against  ever  being,  in  any  case, 
amused  with  names.  It  is  the  fair  representation  of  the  people  that 
is  the  cause  of  all  the  good  ;  and,  if  this  be  obtained,  I,  for  my 
part,  will  never  quarrel  with  any  body  about  names. 

422.  Taxes  and  Priests  :  for  these  always  lay  on  heavily  together. 
On  the  subject  of  taxes,  I  have,  perhaps,  spoken  sufficiently  clear 
before  ;  but,  it  is  a  great  subject.  I  will,  on  these  subjects,  address 
myself  more  immediately  to  my  old  neighbours  of  Botley,  and 

180 


AND  RELIGION 


endeavour  to  make  them  understand,  what  America  is  as  to  taxes 
and  priests. 

423.  Worried,  my  old  neighbours,  as  you  are  by  tax-gatherers  of 
all  descriptions  from  the  County-Collector,  who  rides  in  his 
coach  and  four  down  to  the  petty  Window-Peeper,  the  little 
miserable  spy,  who  is  constantly  on  the  look  out  for  you,  as  if  he 
were  a  thief- catcher  and  you  were  thieves  ;  devoured  as  you  are 
by  these  vermin,  big  and  little,  you  will  with  difficulty  form  an 
idea  of  the  state  of  America  in  this  respect.  It  is  a  state  of  such 
blessedness,  when  compared  with  the  state  of  things  in  England, 
that  I  despair  of  being  able  to  make  you  fully  comprehend  what 
it  is.  Here  a  man  may  make  new  windows,  or  shut  up  old 
windows,  as  often  as  he  pleases,  without  being  compelled  under  a 
penalty  to  give  notice  to  some  insolent  tax-gathering  spy.  Here 
he  may  keep  as  many  horses  as  he  likes,  he  may  ride  them  or  drive 
them  at  his  pleasure,  he  may  sell  them  or  keep  them,  he  may  lend 
them  or  breed  from  them  ;  he  may,  as  far  as  their  nature  allows, 
do  the  same  with  regard  to  his  dogs  ;  he  may  employ  his  servants 
in  his  house,  in  his  stables,  in  his  garden,  or  in  his  fields,  just  as 
he  pleases  ;  he  may,  if  he  be  foolish  enough,  have  armorial 
bearings  on  his  carriage,  his  watch-seals,  on  his  plate,  and,  if  he 
likes,  on  his  very  buckets  and  porridge  pots  ;  he  may  write  his 
receipts,  his  bills,  his  leases,  his  bonds,  and  deeds  upon  unstamped 
paper  ;  his  wife  and  daughters  may  wear  French  gloves  and  Lace 
and  French  and  India  silks  ;  he  may  purchase  or  sell  lands  and 
may  sue  at  law  for  his  rights  :  and  all  these,  and  a  hundred  other 
things,  without  any  dread  of  the  interloping  and  insolent  inter- 
ference of  a  tax-gatherer  or  spy  of  any  description.  Lastly,  when 
he  dies,  he  can  bequeath  his  money  and  goods  and  houses  and 
lands  to  whomsoever  he  pleases  ;  and  he  can  close  his  eyes  without 
curses  in  his  heart  against  a  rapacious  band  of  placemen, 
pensioners,  grantees,  sinecure  holders,  staff-officers,  borough- 
jobbers,  and  blood-money  spies,  who  stand  ready  to  take  from 
his  friends,  his  relations,  his  widow,  and  his  children,  a  large 
part  of  what  he  leaves,  under  the  name  of  a  tax  upon  legacies. 

424.  But,  you  will  ask,  "  are  there  no  taxes  in  America  ?  " 
Yes  ;  and  taxes,  or  public  contributions  of  some  sort,  there  must 
be  in  every  civilized  state  ;  otherwise  government  could  not  exist, 
and  without  government  there  could  be  no  security  for  property 
or  persons.  The  taxes  in  America  consist  principally  of  custom 
duties  imposed  on  goods  imported,  into  the  country.  During  the  late 
war,  there  v/ere  taxes  on  several  things  in  the  country  ;  but,  they 
were  taken  off  at  the  peace.  In  the  cities  and  large  towns,  where 
paving  and  lamps  and  drains  and  scavengers  are  necessary,  there 
are,  of  course,  direct  contributions  to  defray  the  expence  of  these. 
There  are  also,  of  course,  county  rates  and  road  rates.  But,  as 
the  money  thus  raised  is  employed  for  the  immediate  benefit  of 
those  who  pay,  and  is  expended  amongst  themselves  and  under 
their  own  immediate  inspection,  it  does  not  partake  of  the  nature 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


of  a  tax.  The  taxes  or  duties,  on  goods  imported,  yield  a  great 
sum  of  money  ;  and,  owing  to  the  persons  employed  in  the 
collection  being  appointed  for  their  integrity  and  ability,  and  not 
on  account  of  their  connection  with  any  set  of  bribing  and  corrupt 
Boroughmongers,  the  whole  of  the  money  thus  collected  is  fairly 
applied  to  the  public  use,  and  is  amply  sufficient  for  all  the  pur- 
poses of  government.  The  army,  if  it  can  be  so  called,  costs  but 
a  mere  trifle.  It  consists  of  a  few  men,  who  are  absolutely 
necessary  to  keep  forts  from  crumbling  down,  and  guns  from 
rotting  with  rust.  The  navy  is  an  object  of  care,  and  its  support 
and  increase  a  cause  of  considerable  expence.  But  the  govern- 
ment, relying  on  the  good  sense  and  valour  of  a  people,  who  must 
hate  or  disregard  themselves  before  they  can  hate  or  disregard 
that  which  so  manifestly  promotes  their  own  happiness,  has  no 
need  to  expend  much  on  any  species  of  warlike  preparations. 
The  government  could  not  stand  a  week,  if  it  were  hated  by  the 
people  ;  nor,  indeed,  ought  it  to  stand  an  hour.  It  has  the  hearts 
of  the  people  with  it,  and,  therefore,  it  need  expend  nothing  in 
blood-money,  or  in  secret  services  of  any  kind.  Hence  the  cheap- 
ness of  this  government ;  hence  the  small  amount  of  the  taxes  ; 
hence  the  ease  and  happiness  of  the  People. 

425.  Great  as  the  distance  between  you  and  me  is,  my  old 
neighbours,  I  very  often  think  of  you  ;  and  especially  when  I 
buy  salt,  which  our  neighbour  Warner  used  to  sell  us  for  iqs.  a 
bushel,  and  which  I  buy  here  for  zs.  6d.  This  salt  is  made,  you 
know,  down  somewhere  by  Hambel.  This  very  salt ;  when 
brought  here  from  England,  has  all  the  charges  of  freight,  in- 
surance, wharfage,  storage,  to  pay.  It  pays  besides,  one  third  of 
its  value  in  duty  to  the  American  Government  before  it  be  landed 
here.  Then,  you  will  observe,  there  is  the  profit  of  the  American 
Salt  Merchant,  and  then  that  of  the  shop-keeper  who  sells  me  the 
salt.  And,  after  all  this,  I  buy  that  very  Hampshire  salt  for  zs.  6d. 
a  bushel,  English  measure.  What  a  government,  then,  must 
that  of  the  Boroughmongers  be  !  The  salt  is  a  gift  of  God.  It 
is  thrown  on  the  shore.  And  yet,  these  tyrants  will  not  suffer 
us  to  use  it,  until  we  have  paid  them  15s.  a  bushel  for  liberty  to  use 
it.  They  will  not  suffer  us  to  use  the  salt,  which  God  has  sent 
us,  until  we  have  given  them  15s.  a  bushel  for  them  to  bestow  on 
themselves,  on  their  families  and  dependents,  in  the  payment 
of  the  interest  of  the  Debt,  which  they  have  contracted,  and  in 
paying  those,  whom  they  hire  to  shoot  at  us.  Yes  ;  England  is  a 
fine  country  ;  it  is  a  glorious  country  ;  it  contains  an  ingenious, 
industrious,  a  brave  and  warm-hearted  people  ;  but,  it  is  now 
disgraced  and  enslaved  :  it  is  trodden  down  by  these  tyrants  ; 
and  we  must  free  it.     We  cannot,  and  we  will  not  die  their  slaves. 

426.  Salt  is  not  the  only  one  of  the  English  articles  that  we  buy 
cheaper  here  than  in  England.  Glass,  for  instance,  we  buy  for 
half  the  price  that  you  buy  it.  The  reason  is,  that  you  are  com- 
pelled to  pay  a  heavy  tax,  which  is  not  paid  by  us  for  that  same 

182 


AND  RELIGION 


glass.  It  is  the  same  as  to  almost  every  thing  that  comes  from 
England.  You  are  compelled  to  pay  the  Boroughmongers  a 
heavy  tax  on  your  candles  and  soap.  You  dare  not  make  candles 
and  soap,  though  you  have  the  fat  and  the  ashes  in  abundance. 
If  you  attempt  to  do  this,  you  are  taken  up  and  imprisoned  ; 
and,  if  you  resist,  soldiers  are  brought  to  shoot  you.  This  is 
freedom,  is  it  ?  Now,  we,  here,  make  our  own  candles  and  soap. 
Farmers  sometimes  sell  soap  and  candles  ;  but  they  never  buy 
any.  A  labouring  man,  or  a  mechanic,  buys  a  sheep  now  and 
then.  Three  or  four  days'  work  will  buy  a  labourer  a  sheep  to 
weigh  sixty  pounds,  with  seven  or  eight  pounds  of  loose  fat. 
The  meat  keeps  very  well,  in  winter,  for  a  long  time.  The  wool 
makes  stockings.  And  the  loose  fat  is  made  into  candles  and 
soap.  The  year  before  I  left  Hampshire,  a  poor  woman  at  Holly 
Hill  had  dipped  some  rushes  in  grease  to  use  instead  of  candles. 
An  Exciseman  found  it  out  ;  went  and  ransacked  her  house  ; 
and  told  her,  that,  if  the  rushes  had  had  another  dip,  they  would 
have  been  candles,  and  she  must  have  gone  to  jail  !  Why,  my 
friends,  if  such  a  thing  were  told  here,  nobody  would  believe  it. 
The  Americans  could  not  bring  their  minds  to  believe,  that 
Englishmen  would  submit  to  such  atrocious,  such  degrading 
tyranny. 

427.  I  have  had  living  with  me  an  Englishman,  who  smokes 
tobacco  ;  and  he  tells  me,  that  he  can  buy  as  much  tobacco  here 
for  three  cents  :  that  is,  about  three  English  half-pence,  as  he  could 
buy  in  England  for  three  shillings.  The  leather  has  no  tax  on  it 
here  ;  so  that,  though  the  shoe-maker  is  paid  a  high  price  for  his 
labour,  the  labouring  man  gets  his  shoes  very  cheap.  In  short, 
there  is  no  excise  here  ;  no  property  tax  :  no  assessed  taxes.  We 
have  no  such  men  here  as  Chiddel  and  Billy  Toveiy  to  come  and 
take  our  money  from  us.  No  window  peepers.  No  spies  to 
keep  a  look  out  as  to  our  carriages  and  horses  and  dogs.  Our 
dogs  that  came  from  Botley  now  run  about  free  from  the  spying 
of  tax-gatherers.  We  may  wear  hair-powder  if  we  like  without 
paying  for  it,  and  a  boy  in  our  houses  may  whet  our  knives  without 
our  paying  two  pounds  a  year  for  it. 

428.  But,  then,  we  have  not  the  honour  of  being  covered  over 
with  the  dust,  kicked  up  by  the  horses  and  raised  by  the  carriage- 
wheels  of  such  men  as  Old*  George  Rose  and  Old  Garnier,  each 
of  whom  has  pocketted  more  than  three  hundred  thousand  pounds 
of  the  public,  that  is  to  say,  the  people's,  money.  There  are  no 
such  men  here.  Those  who  receive  public  money  here,  do 
something  for  it.  They  earn  it.  They  are  no  richer  than  other 
people.  The  Judges  here  are  plain-dressed  men.  They  go  about 
with  no  sort  of  parade.  They  are  dressed,  on  the  Bench,  like  other 
men.  The  lawyers  the  same.  Here  are  no  black  gowns  and 
scarlet  gowns  and  big  foolish-looking  wigs.  Yet,  in  the  whole 
world,  there  is  not  so  well-behaved,  so  orderly,  so  steady  a  people  ; 
a  people  so  obedient  to  the  law.     But,  it  is  the  law  only  that  they  will 

183 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


bozo  to.  They  will  bow  to  nothing  else.  And,  they  bow  with 
reverence  to  the  law,  because  they  know  it  to  be  just,  and  because 
it  is  made  by  men,  whom  they  have  all  had  a  hand  in  choosing. 

429.  And,  then,  think  of  the  tithes  !  I  have  talked  to  several 
farmers  here  about  the  tithes  in  England  ;  and,  they  laugh. 
They  sometimes  almost  make  me  angry  ;  for  they  seem,  at  last, 
not  to  believe  what  I  say,  when  I  tell  them,  that  the  English  farmer 
gives,  and  is  compelled  to  give,  the  Parson  a  tenth  part  of  his 
whole  crop  and  of  his  fruit  and  milk  and  eggs  and  calves  and 
lambs  and  pigs  and  wool  and  honey.  They  cannot  believe  this. 
They  treat  it  as  a  sort  of  romance.  I  sometimes  almost  wish  them 
to  be  farmers  in  England.  I  said  to  a  neighbour  the  other  day, 
in  half  anger  :  "I  wish  your  farm  were  at  Botley.  There  is 
"  a  fellow  there,  who  would  soon  let  you  know,  that  your  fine 
"  apple-trees  do  not  belong  to  you.  He  would  have  his  nose  in 
"  your  sheep-fold,  your  calf-pens,  your  milk-pail,  your  sow's- 
"  bed,  if  not  in  the  sow  herself.  Your  daughters  would  have  no 
"  occasion  to  hunt  out  the  hens'  nests  :  he  would  do  that  for 
"  them."  And  then  I  gave  him  a  proof  of  an  English  Parson's 
vigilance  by  telling  him  the  story  of  Baker's  peeping  out  the  name, 
marked  on  the  sack,  which  the  old  woman  was  wearing  as  a 
petticoat.  To  another  of  my  neighbours,  who  is  very  proud  of 
the  circumstance  of  his  grandfather  being  an  Englishman,  as, 
indeed,  most  of  the  Americans  are,  who  are  descended  from 
Englishmen  :  to  this  neighbour  I  was  telling  the  story  about  the 
poor  woman  at  Holly  Hill,  who  had  nearly  dipped  her  rushes  once 
too  often.  He  is  a  very  grave  and  religious  man.  He  looked  very 
seriously  at  me,  and  said,  that  falsehood  was  falsehood,  whether 
in  jest  or  earnest.  But,  when  I  invited  him  to  come  to  my  house, 
and  told  him,  that  I  would  show  him  the  acts  which  the  Borough- 
men  had  made  to  put  us  in  jail  if  we  made  our  own  soap  and 
candles,  he  was  quite  astonished.  "  What!  "  said  he,  "  and  is  Old 
"  England  really  come  to  this  !  Is  the  land  of  our  forefathers 
"  brought  to  this  state  of  abject  slavery  !  Well,  Mr.  Cobbett, 
"  I  confess,  that  I  was  always  for  king  George,  during  our 
"  Revolutionary  war  ;  but,  I  believe,  all  was  for  the  best  ;  for, 
"  if  I  had  had  my  wishes,  he  might  have  treated  us  as  he  now  treats 
"  the  people  of  England."  "  He  !  "  said  I.  "  It  is  not  he  :  he, 
"  poor  man,  does  nothing  to  the  people,  and  never  has  done  any 
"  thing  to  the  people.  He  has  no  power  more  than  you  have. 
"  None  of  his  family  have  any.  All  put  together,  they  have  not  a 
"  thousandth  part  so  much  as  I  have  ;  for  I  am  able,  though  here, 
"  to  annoy  our  tyrants,  to  make  them  less  easy  than  they  would 
"  be  ;  but,  these  tyrants  care  no  more  for  the  Royal  Family  than 
"  they  do  for  so  many  posts  or  logs  of  wood."  And  then  I 
explained  to  him  who  and  what  the  Boroughmongers  were,  and 
how  they  oppressed  us  and  the  king  too.  I  told  him  how  they 
disposed  of  the  Church  livings,  and,  in  short,  explained  to  him 

184 


AND  RELIGION 


all  their  arts  and  all  their  cruelties.     He  was  exceedingly  shocked  ; 
but  was  glad,  at  any  rate  to  know  the  truth. 

430.  When  I  was,  last  winter,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Harris- 
burgh  in  Pennsylvania,  I  saw  some  hop-planters.  They  grow 
prodigious  quantities  of  hops.  They  are  obliged  to  put  their 
hills  so  wide  apart,  that  they  can  have  only  four  hundred  hills 
upon  an  acre  ;  and  yet  they  grow  three  thousand  pounds  of  hops 
upon  an  acre,  with  no  manure  and  with  once  ploughing  in  the 
year.  When  I  told  them  about  the  price  of  hops  in  England  and 
about  the  difficulty  of  raising  them,  they  were  greatly  surprised  ; 
but,  what  was  their  astonishment,  when  I  told  them  about  the 
hop-poles  of  Chalcraft  at  Curbridge  !  The  hop  is  naturally  a 
weed  in  England  as  well  as  in  America.  Two  or  three  vines  had 
come  up  out  of  Chalcraft's  garden  hedge,  a  few  years  ago. 
Chalcraft  put  poles  to  them  ;  and,  there  might  be  a  pound  or 
two  of  hops  on  these  poles.  Just  before  the  time  of  gathering, 
one  of  the  spies  called  Excisemen  called  on  Chalcraft  and  asked 
him  why  he  did  not  enter  his  hops.  Chalcraft  did  not  under- 
stand ;  but,  answered,  he  meant  to  take  them  in  shortly,  though 
he  did  not  think  they  were  yet  quite  ripe.  "  Aye,"  said  the 
Exciseman,  "  but  I  mean,  when  do  you  mean  to  enter  them  at 
"  the  excise  office  ?  "  Chalcraft  did  not  know  (not  living  in  a  hop- 
country),  that  he  had  already  incurred  a  penalty  for  not  reporting 
to  the  tyrants  that  he  had  hops  growing  in  his  garden  hedge  ! 
He  did  not  know,  that  he  could  not  gather  them  and  put  them  by 
without  giving  notice,  under  a  penalty  of  fifty  pounds.  He  did 
not  know,  that  he  could  not  receive  this  little  gift  of  God  without 
paying  money  to  the  Boroughmongers  in  the  shape  of  tax  ; 
and,  to  the  Parson  in  the  shape  of  tithe,  or,  to  give  a  tenth  of  the 
hops  to  the  Parson,  and  not  dare  pick  a  single  hop  till  he  had  sent 
notice  to  the  Parson  !  What  he  did,  upon  this  occasion,  I  have 
forgotten  ;  but,  it  is  likely  that  he  let  the  hops  stand  and  rot,  or 
cut  them  down  and  flung  them  away  as  weeds.  Now,  poor  men 
in  England  are  told  to  be  content  with  rags  and  hungry  bellies, 
for  that  is  their  lot  :  that  "  it  has  pleased  Divine  Providence  to 
"  place  them  in  that  state."  But,  here  is  a  striking  instance  of 
the  falsehood  and  blasphemy  of  this  Doctrine  ;  for,  Providence 
had  sent  Chalcraft  the  hops,  and  he  had  put  poles  to  them. 
Providence  had  brought  the  hops  to  perfection  ;  but  then  came 
the  Boroughmongers  and  the  Parson  to  take  from  this  poor  man 
this  boon  of  a  benevolent  Maker.  What,  did  God  order  a  tax 
with  all  its  vexatious  regulations,  to  be  imposed  upon  what  he 
had  freely  given  to  this  poor  man  ?  Did  God  ordain  that,  in 
addition  to  this  tax,  a  tenth  should  be  yielded  to  a  Parson,  who  had 
solemnly  vowed  at  his  ordination,  that  he  believed  himself  called, 
not  by  the  love  of  tithes,  but  by  "  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  take  on  him 
"  the  curs  of  souls,''  and  to  "  bring  stray  sheep  into  the  fold  of  the 
"  Lord  ?  "  Did  God  ordain  these  things  ?  Had  it  pleased  God 
to  do  this  ?  What  impunity,  what  blasphemy,  then,  to  ascribe 
'    185 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


to  Providence  the  manifold  sufferings  occasioned  by  the  Borough- 
mongers'  taxes  and  Parson's  tithes  ! 

431.  But,  my  Botley  neighbours,  you  will  exclaim,  "  No  tithes  I 
"  Why,  then,  there  can  be  no  Churches  and  no  Parsons  !  The 
"  people  must  know  nothing  of  God  or  Devil  ;  and  must  all  go 
"  to  hell  !  "  By  no  means,  my  friends.  Here  are  plenty  of 
Churches.  No  less  than  three  Episcopal  (or  English)  Churches  ; 
three  Presbyterian  Churches  ;  three  Lutheran  Churches  ;  one 
or  two  Quaker  Meeting-houses  ;  and  two  Methodist  Places  ; 
all  within  six  miles  of  the  spot  where  I  am  sitting.  And,  these, 
mind,  not  poor  shabby  Churches  ;  but  each  of  them  larger  and 
better  built  and  far  handsomer  than  Botley  Church,  with  the 
Church-yards  all  kept  in  the  neatest  order,  with  a  head-stone  to 
almost  every  grave.  As  to  the  Quaker  Meeting-house,  it  would 
take  Botley  Church  into  its  belly,  if  you  were  first  to  knock  off 
the  steeple. 

432.  Oh,  no  !  Tithes  are  not  necessary  to  promote  religion. 
When  our  Parsons,  such  as  Baker,  talk  about  religion,  or  the 
church,  being  in  danger  ;  they  mean,  that  the  tithes  are  in  danger. 
They  mean,  that  they  are  in  danger  of  being  compelled  to  work  for 
their  bread.  This  is  what  they  mean.  You  remember,  that,  at 
our  last  meeting  at  Winchester,  they  proposed  for  us  to  tell  the 
Prince  Regent,  that  we  would  support  the  Church.  I  moved,  to 
leave  out  the  word  church,  and  insert  the  word  tithes  :  for,  as 
there  were  many  presbyterians  and  other  dissenters  present,  they 
could  not,  with  clear  consciences,  pledge  themselves  to  support 
the  church.  This  made  them  furious.  It  was  lifting  up  the 
mask  :   and  the  parsons  were  enraged  beyond  measure. 

433.  Oh,  no  1  Tithes  do  not  mean  religion.  Religion  means  a 
reverence  for  God.  And,  what  has  this  to  do  with  tithes  ?  Why 
cannot  you  reverence  God,  without  Baker  and  his  wife  and 
children  eating  up  a  tenth  part  of  the  corn  and  milk  and  eggs  and 
lambs  and  pigs  and  calves  that  are  produced  in  Botley  parish  ? 
The  Parsons,  in  this  country,  are  supported  by  those  who  choose 
to  employ  them.  A  man  belongs  to  what  congregation  he  pleases. 
He  pays  what  is  required  by  the  rules  of  the  congregation.  And, 
if  he  think  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  him  to  belong  to  any  con- 
gregation, he  pays  nothing  at  all.  And,  the  consequence  is,  that 
all  is  harmony  and  good  neighbourhood.  Here  are  not  disputes 
about  religion  ;  or,  if  there  be,  they  make  no  noise.  Here  is 
no  ill-will  on  this  account.  A  man  is  never  asked  what  religion 
he  is  of,  or  whether  he  be  of  any  religion  at  all.  It  is  a  matter  that 
nobody  interferes  in.  What  need,  therefore,  is  there  of  an 
established  Church.  What  need'  is  there  of  tithes  ?  And,  why 
should  not  that  species  of  property  be  taken  for  public  use  ?  That 
is  to  say,  as  far  as  it  had  any  thing  to  do  with  religion  ?  I  know 
very  well,  that  tithes  do  not  operate  as  many  people  pretend  ;  I 
know  that  those  who  complain  most  about  them  have  the  least 

186 


AND  RELIGION 


right  to  complain  ;    but,  for  my  present  purpose,  it  is  sufficient 
to  shew,  that  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  religion. 

434.  If,  indeed,  the  Americans  were  wicked,  disorderly,  criminal 
people,  and,  of  course,  a  miserable  and  foolish  people  :  then  we 
might  doubt  upon  the  subject  :  then  we  might  possibly  suppose, 
that  their  wickedness  and  misery  arose,  in  some  degree,  at  least, 
from  the  want  of  tithes.  But,  the  contrary  is  the  fact.  They  are 
the  most  orderly,  sensible,  and  least  criminal  people  in  the  whole 
world.  A  common  labouring  man  has  the  feelings  of  a  man  of 
honour  ;  he  never  thinks  of  violating  the  laws  ;  he  crawls  to 
nobody  ;  he  will  call  every  man  Sir,  but  he  will  call  no  man 
master.  When  he  utters  words  of  respect  towards  any  one,  they 
do  not  proceed  from  fear  or  hope,  but  from  civility  and  sincerity. 
A  native  American  labourer  is  never  rude  towards  his  employer, 
but  he  is  never  cringing. 

435.  However,  the  best  proof  of  the  inutility  of  an  established 
Church  is  the  absence  of  crimes  in  this  country,  compared  to  the 
state  of  England  in  that  respect.  There  have  not  been  three 
felonies  tried  in  this  country  since  I  arrived  in  it.  The  Court- 
house is  at  two  miles  from  me.  An  Irishman  was  tried  for  forgery 
in  the  summer  of  1817,  and  the  whole  country  was  alive  to  go  and 
witness  the  novelty.  I  have  not  heard  of  a  man  being  hanged  in 
the  whole  of  the  United  States  since  my  arrival.  The  Borough- 
mongers,  in  answer  to  statements  like  these,  say  that  this  is  a 
thinly  inhabited  country.  This  very  country  is  more  thickly 
settled  than  Hampshire.  The  adjoining  country,  towards  the  city 
of  New  York  is  much  more  thickly  settled  than  Hampshire. 
New  York  itself  and  its  immediate  environs  contain  nearly  two 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  and  after  London,  is,  perhaps,  the 
first  commercial  and  maritime  city  in  the  world.  Thousands  of 
sailors,  ship-carpenters,  dock-yard  people,  dray-men,  boat-men, 
crowd  its  wharfs  and  quays.  Yet,  never  do  we  hear  of  hanging  ; 
scarcely  ever  of  a  robbery  ;  men  go  to  bed  with  scarcely  locking 
their  doors  ;  and  never  is  there  seen  in  the  streets  what  is  called 
in  England,  a  girl  of  the  town  :  and,  what  is  still  more,  never  is 
there  seen  in  those  streets  a  beggar.  I  wish  you,  my  old  neigh- 
bours, could  see  this  city  of  New  York.  Portsmouth  and  Gosport, 
taken  together,  are  miserable  holes  compared  to  it.  Man's 
imagination  can  fancy  nothing  so  beautiful  as  its  bay  and  port, 
from  which  two  immense  rivers  sweep  up  on  the  sides  of  the  point 
of  land,  on  which  the  city  is.  These  rivers  are  continually  covered 
with  vessels  of  various  sizes  bringing  the  produce  of  the  land,  while 
the  bay  is  scarcely  less  covered  with  ships  going  in  and  out  from 
all  parts  of  the  world.  The  city  itself  is  a  scene  of  opulence  and 
industry  :   riches  v/ithout  insolence,  and  labour  without  grudging. 

436.  What  Englishman  can  contemplate  this  brilliant  sight 
without  feeling  some  little  pride  that  this  city  bears  an  English 
name  ?  But,  thoughts  of  more  importance  ought  to  fill  his  mind. 
He  ought  to  contrast  the  ease,  the  happiness,  the  absence  of  crime 

187 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS, 


which  prevail  here  with  the  incessant  anxieties,  the  miseries  and 
murderous  works  in  England.  In  his  search  after  causes  he  will 
rind  them  no  where  but  in  the  government ;  and,  as  to  an 
established  church,  if  he  find  no  sound  argument  to  prove  it  to 
be  an  evil  ;  at  the  very  least  he  must  conclude,  that  it  is  not  a  good  ; 
and,  of  course  that  property  to  the  amount  of  five  millions  a  year 
is  very  unjustly  as  well  as  unwisely  bestowed  on  its  clergy. 

437.  Nor,  let  it  be  said,  that  the  people  here  are  of  a  better 
natural  disposition  than  the  people  of  England  are.  How  can 
it  be  ?  They  are,  the  far  greater  part  of  them,  the  immediate 
descendants  of  Englishmen,  Irishmen,  and  Scotsmen.  Nay, 
in  the  city  of  New  York  it  is  supposed,  that  a  full  half  of  the  labour 
is  performed  by  natives  of  Ireland,  while  men  of  that  Island  make 
a  great  figure  in  trade,  at  the  bar,  and  in  all  the  various  pursuits 
of  life.  They  have  their  Romish  Chapels  there  in  great  brilliancy  ' 
and  they  enjoy  "  Catholic  Emancipation  "  without  any  petitioning 
or  any  wrangling.  In  short,  blindfold  an  Englishman  and  convey 
him  to  New  York,  unbind  his  eyes,  and  he  will  think  himself  in 
an  English  city.  The  same  sort  of  streets  ;  shops  precisely  the 
same  ;  the  same  beautiful  and  modest  women  crowding  in  and 
out  of  them  ;  the  same  play-houses  ;  the  same  men,  same  dress, 
same  language  :  he  will  miss  by  day  only  the  nobility  and  the 
beggars,  and  by  night  only  the  street- walkers  and  pickpockets. 
These  are  to  be  found  only  where  there  is  an  established  clergy, 
upheld  by  what  is  called  the  state,  and  which  word  means,  in 
England,  the  Boroughmongers. 

438.  Away,  then,  my  friends,  with  all  cant  about  the  church, 
and  the  church  being  in  danger.  If  the  church,  that  is  to  say,  the 
tithes,  were  completely  abolished  :  if  they,  and  all  the  immense 
property  of  the  church,  were  taken  and  applied  to  public  use, 
there  would  not  be  a  sermon  or  a  prayer  the  less.  Not  only  the 
Bible  but  the  very  Prayer-book  is  in  use  here  as  much  as  in 
England,  and,  I  believe,  a  great  deal  more.  Why  give  the  five 
millions  a  year  then,  to  Parsons  and  their  wives  and  children  ? 
Since  the  English,  Irish,  and  Scotch,  are  so  good,  so  religious, 
and  so  moral  here  without  glebes  and  tithes  ;  why  not  use  these 
glebes  and  tithes  for  other  purposes  seeing  they  are  possessions 
which  can  legally  be  disposed  of  in  another  manner  ? 

439.  But,  the  fact  is,  that  it  is  the  circumstance  of  the  church 
being  established  by  law  that  makes  it  of  little  use  as  to  real  religion, 
and  as  to  morals,  as  far  as  they  be  connected  with  religion.  Because 
as  we  shall  presently  see,  this  establishment  forces  upon  the  people 
parsons  whom  they  cannot  respect,  and  whom  indeed,  they  must 
despise  :  and,  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  that  the  moral  precepts  of 
those,  whom  we  despise  on  account  of  their  immorality,  we  shall 
never  much  attend  to,  even  supposing  the  precepts  themselves  to 
be  good.  If  a  precept  be  self- evidently  good  ;  if  it  be  an  obvious 
duty  which  the  parson  inculcates,  the  inculcation  is  useless  to  us, 
because,  whenever  it  is  wanted  to  guide  us,  it  will  occur  without 

188 


AND  RELIGION 


the  suggestion  of  any  one  ;  and,  if  the  precept  be  not  self-evidently 
good,  we  shall  never  receive  it  as  such  from  the  lips  of  a  man, 
whose  character  and  life  tell  us  we  ought  to  suspect  the  truth  of 
every  thing  he  utters.  When  the  matters  as  to  which  we  are 
receiving  instructions  are,  in  their  nature,  wholly  dissimilar  to 
those  as  to  which  we  have  witnessed  the  conduct  of  the  teacher, 
we  may  reasonably,  in  listening  to  the  piecept,  disregard  that 
conduct.  Because,  for  instance,  a  man,  though  a  very  indifferent 
Christian,  may  be  a  most  able  soldier,  seaman,  physician,  lawyer, 
or  almost  any  thing  else  ;  and  what  is  more,  may  be  honest  and 
zealous  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  in  any  of  these  several 
capacities.  But,  when  the  conduct,  which  we  have  observed  in 
the  teacher  belongs  to  the  same  department  of  life  as  the  precept 
which  he  is  delivering,  if  the  one  differ  from  the  other  we  cannot 
believe  the  teacher  to  be  sincere,  unless  he,  while  he  enforces  his 
precept  upon  us,  acknowledge  his  own  misconduct.  Suppose 
me,  for  instance,  to  be  a  great  liar,  as  great  a  liar,  if  possible,  as 
Stewart  of  the  Courier,  who  has  said  that  I  have  been  "  fined 
"  700  dollars  for  writing  against  the  American  government," 
though  I  never  was  prosecuted  in  America  in  all  my  life.  Suppose 
me  to  be  as  great  a  liar  as  Stewart,  and  I  were  to  be  told  by  a 
parson,  whom  I  knew  to  be  as  great  a  liar  as  myself,  that  I  should 
certainly  go  to  hell  if  I  did  not  leave  off  lying.  Would  his  words 
have  any  effect  upon  me  ?  No  :  because  I  should  conclude, 
that  if  he  thought  what  he  said,  he  would  not  be  such  a  liar  himself. 
I  should  rely  upon  the  parson  generally,  or  I  should  not.  If  I 
did,  I  should  think  myself  safe  until  I  out-lied  him  ;  and,  if  I  did 
not  rely  on  him  generally,  of  what  use  would  he  be  to  me  ? 

440.  Thus,  then,  if  men  be  sincere  about  religion  ;  if  it  be  not 
all  a  mere  matter  of  form,  it  must  always  be  of  the  greatest  con- 
sequence, that  the  example  of  the  teacher  correspond  with  his 
teaching.  And  the  most  likely  way  to  insure  this,  is  to  manage 
things  so  that  he  may  in  the  first  place,  be  selected  by  the  people, 
and,  in  the  second  place,  have  no  rewards  in  view  other  than  those 
which  are  to  be  given  in  consequence  of  his  perseverance  in  a  line 
of  good  conduct. 

441.  And  thus  it  is  with  the  clergy  in  America,  who  are  duly 
and  amply  rewarded  for  their  diligence,  and  very  justly  respected 
for  the  piety,  talent,  and  zeal  which  they  discover  ;  but,  who  have 
no  tenure  of  their  places  other  than  that  of  the  will  of  the  con- 
gregation. Hence  it  rarely  indeed  happens,  that  there  is  seen 
amongst  them  an  impious,  an  immoral,  or  a  despicable  man. 
Whether  the  teaching  of  even  these  Reverend  persons  have  any 
very  great  effect  in  producing  virtue  and  happiness  amongst  men 
is  a  question  upon  which  men  may,  without  deserving  to  be  burnt 
alive,  take  the  liberty  to  differ  ;  especially  since  the  world  has 
constantly  before  its  eyes  a  society,  who  excel  in  all  the  Christian 
virtues,  who  practise  that  simplicity  which  others  teach,  who,  in 
the  great  work  of  charity,  really  and  truly  hide  from  the  left  hand 

o  189 


GOVERNMENT  LAWS. 


that  which  the  right  hand  doeth  ;  and  who  know  nothing  of 
Bishop,  Priest,  Deacon,  or  Teacher  of  any  description.  Yes, 
since  we  have  the  Quakers  constantly  before  our  eyes,  we  may, 
without  deserving  to  be  burnt  alive,  question  the  utility  of  paying 
any  parsons  or  religious  teachers  at  all.  But,  the  worst  of  it  is, 
we  are  apt  to  confound  things  ;  as  we  have,  by  a  figure  of  speech, 
.got  to  call  a  building  a  church,  when  a  church  really  means  a  body 
of  people  ;  so  we  are  apt  to  look  upon  the  priest  as  being  religious, 
and  especially  when  we  call  him  the  reverend  :  and,  it  often  sadly 
occurs  that  no  two  things  can  be  wider  from  each  other  in  this 
quality.  Some  writer  has  said,  that  he  would  willingly  leave  to 
the  clergy  every  thing  above  the  tops  of  the  chimneys  ;  which, 
perhaps,  was  making  their  possessions  rather  too  ethereal  ;  but, 
since  our  law  calls  them  "  spiritual  persons  "  ;  since  they  profess 
that  "  their  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,"  and,  since  those  of  our 
church  have  solemnly  declared,  that  they  believed  themselves  to 
be  called  to  the  ministry  "  by  the  Holy  Ghost  :  "  it  is,  I  think,  a 
little  out  of  character  for  them  to  come  poking  and  grunting  and 
grumbling  about  after  our  eggs,  potatoes,  and  sucking  pigs. 

442.  However,  upon  the  general  question  of  the  utility  or  non- 
utility  of  paid  religious  teachers,  let  men  decide  for  themselves  ; 
but  if  teachers  are  to  be  paid,  it  seems  a  clear  point,  in  my  mind, 
that  they  should  be  paid  upon  the  American  plan  :  and  this,  I 
think,  must  be  obvious  to  every  one,  who  is  able  to  take  a  view  of 
the  English  Clergy.  They  are  appointed  by  the  absolute  will  of 
the  Boroughmongers.  They  care  nothing  for  the  good  will  of 
their  congregation  or  parish.  It  is  as  good  to  them  to  be  hated 
by  their  parishioners  as  to  be  loved  by  them.  They  very  fre- 
quently never  even  see  their  parish  more  than  once  in  four  or  five 
years.  They  solemnly  declare  at  the  altar,  that  they  believe 
themselves  called  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  take  on  them  the  cure  of 
souls  :  they  get  possession  of  a  living  ;  and  leave  the  cure  of  souls 
to  some  curate,  to  whom  they  give  a  tenth  part,  perhaps,  of  the 
income.  Many  of  them  have  two  livings,  at  thirty  miles  distance 
from  each  other.  They  live  at  neither  very  frequently  ;  and, 
when  they  do  they  only  add  to  the  annoyance  which  their  curate 
gives. 

443 .  As  to  their  general  character  and  conduct  ;  in  what  public 
transaction  of  pre-eminent  scandal  have  they  not  taken  a  part  ? 
Who  were  found  most  intimate  with  Mrs.  Clarke,  and  most  busy 
in  her  commission  dealing  affairs  ?  Clergymen  of  the  Church 
of  England.  This  is  notorious.  Miss  Tocker  tells  of  the  two 
livings  given  to  Parson  Gurney  for  his  electioneering  works  in 
Cornwall.  And,  indeed  all  over  the  country,  they  have  been  and 
are  the  prime  agents  of  the  Boroughmongers.  Recently  they  have 
been  the  tools  of  Sidmouth  for  gagging  the  press  in  the  country 
parts  of  the  kingdom.  Powis  and  Guillim  were  the  prosecutors 
of  Messrs.  Pilling  and  Melor  ;  and  for  which  if  they  be  not  made 
to  answer,  the  kingdom  ought  to  be  destroyed.     They  are  the 

190 


ANDJRELIGION 


leading  men  at  Pitt  Clubs  all  over  the  country  ;  they  were  the 
foremost  to  defend  the  peculation  of  Melville.  In  short,  there 
has  been  no  public  man  guilty  of  an  infamous  act,  of  whom  they 
have  not  taken  the  part  ;  and  no  act  of  tyranny  of  which  they  have 
not  been  the  eulogists  and  the  principal  instrument.  <-  \ 

444.  But,  why  do  I  attempt  to  describe  Parsons  to  Hampshire 
men  ?  You  saw  them  all  assembled  in  grand  cohort  the  last  time 
that  I  saw  any  of  you.  You  saw  them  at  Winchester,  when  they 
brought  forward  their  lying  address  to  the  Regent.  You  saw 
them  on  that  day,  and  so  did  I  ;  and  in  them  I  saw  a  band  of  more 
complete  blackguards  than  I  ever  before  saw  in  all  my  life.  I  then 
saw  Parson  Baines  of  Extcn,  standing  up  in  a  chair  and  actually 
spitting  in  Lord  Cochrane's  poll,  while  the  latter  was  bending  his 
neck  out  to  speak.  Lord  Cochrane  looked  round  and  said, 
"  B.  G — Sir,  if  you  do  that  again  I'll  knock  you  down."  "  You 
"  be  d — d,"  said  Baines,  "  I'll  spit  where  I  like."  Lord  Cochrane 
struck  at  him  ;  Baines  jumped  down,  put  his  two  hands  to  his 
mouth  in  a  huntsman-like  way,  and  cried  "  whoop  !  whoop  !  " 
till  he  was  actually  black  in  the  face.  One  of  them  trampled  upon 
my  heel  as  I  was  speaking.  I  looked  round,  and  begged  him  to 
leave  off.  "  You  be  d — d,"  said  he,  "  you  be  d — d,  Jacobin." 
He  then  tried  to  press  on  me,  to  stifle  my  voice,  till  I  clapped  my 
elbow  into  his  ribs  and  made  "  the  spiritual  person  "  hiccup. 
There  were  about  twenty  of  them  mounted  upon  a  large  table  in 
the  room  ;  and  there  they  jumped,  stamped,  hallooed,  roared, 
thumped  with  canes  and  umbrellas,  squalled,  whistled,  and  made 
all  sorts  of  noises.  As  Lord  Cochrane  and  I  were  going  back  to 
London,  he  said  that,  so  many  years  as  he  had  been  in  the  navy,  he 
never  had  seen  a  band  of  such  complete  blackguards.  And  I 
said  the  same  for  the  army.  And,  I  declare,  that,  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life,  I  have  never  seen  any  men,  drunk  or  sober, 
behave  in  so  infamous  a  manner.  Mr.  Phillips,  of  Eling,  (now 
Doctor  Phillips)  whom  I  saw  standing  in  the  room,  I  tapped  on 
the  shoulder,  and  asked,  whether  he  was  not  ashamed.  Mr.  Lee, 
of  the  College  ;  Mr.  Ogle,  of  Bishop's  Waltham  ;  and  Doctor 
Hill,  of  Southampton  :  these  were  exceptions.  Perhaps  the.  2 
might  be  some  others  ;  but  the  mass  was  the  most  audacious, 
foul,  and  atrocious  body  of  men  I  ever  saw.  We  had  done  nothing 
to  offend  them.  We  had  proposed  nothing  to  offend  them  in  the 
smallest  degree.  But,  they  were  afraid  of  our  speeches  ;  they 
knew  they  could  not  answer  us  ;  and  they  were  resolved,  that,  if 
possible,  we  should  not  be  heard.  There  was  one  person,  who 
had  his  mouth  within  a  foot  of  Lord  Cochrane's  ear,  all  the  time 
his  Lordship  was  speaking,  and  who  kept  on  saying  :  "  You  lie  ! 
"  you  lie  !  you  lie  !  you  lie  !  "as  loud  as  he  could  utter  the  words. 

445.  Baker,  the  Botley  Parson,  was  extremely  busy.  He  acted 
the  part  of  buffoon  to  Lockhart.  He  kept  capering  about  behind 
him,  and  really  seemed  like  a  merry  andrew  rather  than  a 
"  spiritual  per son. " 

191 


GOVERNMENT,  LAWS,  ETC. 

446.  Such  is  the  character  of  the  great  body  of  Hampshire 
Parsons.  I  know  of  no  body  of  men  so  despicable,  and  yet,  what 
sums  of  public  money  do  they  swallow  !  It  now  remains  for  me 
to  speak  more  particularly  of  Baker,  he  who,  for  your  sins  I 
suppose,  is  fastened  upon  you  as  your  Parson.  But  what  I  have 
to  say  of  this  man  must  be  the  subject  of  another  Letter.  That 
it  should  be  the  subject  of  any  letter  at  all  may  well  surprize  all 
who  know  the  man  ;  for  not  one  creature  knows  him  without 
despising  him.  But,  it  is  not  Baker,  it  is  the  scandalous  priest, 
that  I  strike  at.  It  is  the  impudent,  profligate,  hardened  priest 
that  I  will  hold  up  to  public  scorn. 

447.  When  I  see  the  good  and  kind  people  here  going  to  church 
to  listen  to  some  decent  man  of  good  moral  character  and  of  sober 
quiet  life,  I  always  think  of  you.  You  are  just  the  same  sort  of 
people  as  they  are  here  ;  but,  what  a  difference  in  the  Clergyman  ! 
What  a  difference  between  the  sober,  sedate,  friendly  map  who 
preaches  to  one  of  these  congregations,  and  the  greedy,  chattering, 
lying,  backbiting,  mischief-making,  everlasting  plague,  that  you 
go  to  hear,  and  are  compelled  to  hear,  or  stay  away  from  the  church. 
Baker  always  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  Magpie. 

The   Magpie,   bird    of   chatt'ring   fame, 
Whose   tongue    and    hue    bespeak   his    name; 
The  first  a  squalling  clam'rous  clack, 
The  last  made  up   of  white  and  black; 
Feeder    alike   on   flesh   and   corn, 
Greedy    alike   at   eve   and   morn; 
Of    all   the   birds  the   prying    pest, 
Must  needs  be  Parson  o'er  the  rest. 

448.  Thus  I  began  a  fable,  when  I  lived  at  Botley.  I  have 
forgotten  the  rest  of  it.  It  will  please  you  to  hear  that  there  are 
no  Magpies  in  America  ;  but,  it  will  please  you  still  more  to  hear, 
that  no  men  that  resemble  them  are  parsons  here.  I  have  some- 
times been  half  tempted  to  believe,  that  the  Magpie  first  suggested 
to  tyrants  the  idea  of  having  a  tithe-eating  Clergy.  The  Magpie 
devours  the  corn  and  grain  ;  so  does  the  Parson.  The  Magpie 
takes  the  wool  from  the  sheep's  backs  ;  so  does  the  Parson.  The 
Magpie  devours  alike  the  young  animals  and  the  eggs  ;  so  does  the 
Parson.  The  Magpie's  clack  is  everlastingly  going  ;  so  is  the 
Parson's.  The  Magpie  repeats  by  rote  words  that  are  taught  it  ; 
so  does  the  Parson.  The  Magpie  is  always  skipping  and  hopping 
and  peeping  into  other's  nests  :  so  is  the  Parson.  The  Magpie's 
colour  is  partly  black  and  partly  white  ;  so  is  the  Parson's.  The 
Magpie's  greediness,  impudence,  and  cruelty  are  proverbial  ;  so 
are  those  of  the  Parson.  I  was  saying  to  a  farmer  the  other  day, 
that  if  the  Boroughmongers  had  a  mind  to  ruin  America,  they 
would  another  time,  send  over  five  or  six  good  large  flocks  of 
Magpies,  instead  of  five  or  six  of  their  armies  ;  but,  upon  second 
thought,  they  would  do  the  thing  far  more  effectually  by  sending 
over  five  or  six  flocks  of  their  Parsons,  and  getting  the  people  to 
receive  them  and  cherish  them  as  the  Bulwark  of  religion. 

END   OF   PART    II. 


PART  III 


DEDICATION 
To 
TIMOTHY   BROWN,    Esq., 

OF   PECKHAM   LODGE,   SURREY. 


North  Hempstead,  Long  Island, 
10  Dec.  1818. 
My  dear  Sir, 

The  little  volume  here  presented  to  the  public,  consists,  as 
you  will  perceive,  for  the  greater  and  most  valuable  part,  of 
travelling  notes,  made  by  our  friend  Hulme,  whom  I  had  the 
honour  to  introduce  to  you  in  181 6,  and  with  whom  you  were  so 
much  pleased. 

His  activity,  which  nothing  can  benumb,  his  zeal  against  the 
twin  monster,  tyranny  and  priestcraft,  which  nothing  can  cool, 
and  his  desire  to  assist  in  providing  a  place  of  retreat  for  the 
oppressed,  which  nothing  but  success  in  the  accomplishment  can 
satisfy  ;  these  have  induced  him  to  employ  almost  the  whole  of 
his  time  here  in  various  ways  all  tending  to  the  same  point. 

The  Boroughmongers  have  agents  and  spies  all  over  the  in- 
habited globe.  Here  they  cannot  sell  blood  :  they  can  only  collect 
information  and  calumniate  the  people  of  both  countries.  These 
vermin  our  friend  firks  out  (as  the  Hampshire  people  call  it)  ; 
and  they  hate  him  as  rats  hate  a  terrier. 

Amongst  his  other  labours,  he  has  performed  a  very  laborious 
journey  to  the  Western  Countries,  and  has  been  as  far  as  the  Colony 
of  our  friend  Birkbeck.  This  journey  has  produced  a  Journal  ; 
and  this  Journal,  along  with  the  rest  of  the  volume,  I  dedicate  to 
you  in  testimony  of  my  constant  remembrance  of  the  many,  many 
happy  hours  I  have  spent  with  you,  and  of  the  numerous  acts  of 
kindness,  which  I  have  received  at  your  hands.  You  were  one  of 
those,  who  sought  acquaintance  with  me,  when  I  was  shut  up  in  a 
felon's  jail  for  two  years  for  having  expressed  my  indignation  at 
seeing  Englishmen  flogged,  in  the  heart  of  England,  under  a  guard 

195 


DEDICATION 


of  German  bayonets  and  sabres,  and  when  I  had  on  my  head  a 
thousand  pounds  fine  and  seven  years'  recognizances.  You,  at  the 
end  of  the  two  years,  took  me  from  the  prison,  in  your  carriage, 
home  to  your  house.  You  and  our  kind  friend,  Walker,  are, 
even  yet,  held  in  bonds  for  my  good  behaviour,  the  seven  years  not 
being  expired.  All  these  things  are  written  in  the  very  cord  of  my 
heart  ;  and  when  I  act  as  if  I  had  forgotten  any  one  of  them,  may 
no  name  on  earth  be  so  much  detested  and  despised  as  that  of 


Your  faithful  friend, 

And  most  obedient  servant, 

Wm.  COBBETT. 


196 


PREFACE  TO   PART  III. 

849.  In  giving  an  account  of  the  United  States  of  America,  it 
would  not  have  been  proper  to  omit  saying  something  of  the 
Western  Countries,  that  Newest  of  the  New  Worlds,  to  which  so 
many  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  are  flocking,  and 
towards  which  the  writings  of  Mr.  Birkbeck  have,  of  late,  drawn 
the  pointed  attention  of  all  those  Englishmen,  who,  having  some- 
thing left  to  be  robbed  of,  and  wishing  to  preserve  it,  are  looking 
towards  America  as  a  place  of  refuge  from  the  Boroughmongers 
and  the  Holy  Alliance,  which  latter,  to  make  the  compact  complete, 
seems  to  want  nothing  but  the  accession  of  His  Satanic  Majesty. 

850.  I  could  not  go  to  the  Western  Countries  ;  and,  the  accounts 
of  others  were  seldom  to  be  relied  on  ;  because,  scarcely  any  man 
goes  thither  without  some  degree  of  partiality,  or  comes  back 
without  being  tainted  with  some  little  matter,  at  least,  of  self- 
interest.  Yet,  it  was  desirable  to  make  an  attempt,  at  least, 
towards  settling  the  question  :  "  Whether  the  Atlantic,  or  the 
"  Western,  Countries  were  the  best  for  English  Farmers  to  settle 
"  in."  Therefore,  when  Mr.  Hulme  proposed  to  make  a  Western 
Tour,  I  was  very  much  pleased,  seeing  that,  of  all  the  men  I  knew, 
he  was  the  most  likely  to  bring  us  back  an  impartial  account  of 
what  he  should  see.  His  great  knowledge  of  farming  as  well  as 
of  manufacturing  affairs  ;  his  capacity  of  estimating  local  ad- 
vantages and  disadvantages  ;  the  natural  turn  of  his  mind  for 
discovering  the  means  of  applying  to  the  use  of  man  all  that  is 
furnished  by  the  earth,  the  air,  and  water  ;  the  patience  and 
perseverance  with  which  he  pursues  all  his  inquiries  ;  the  urbanity 
of  his  manners,  which  opens  to  him  all  the  sources  of  information  : 
his  inflexible  adherence  to  truth  ;  all  these  marked  him  out  as  the 
man,  on  whom  the  public  might  safely  rely. 

851.  I,  therefore,  give  his  Journal,  made  during  his  tour.  He 
offers  no  opinion  as  to  the  question  above  stated.  That  I  shall 
do  ;  and,  when  the  reader  has  gone  through  the  Journal  he  will 
find  my  opinions  as  to  that  question,  which  opinions  I  have  stated 
in  a  Letter,  addressed  to  Mr.  Birkbeck. 

852.  The  American  reader  will  perceive,  that  this  Letter  is 
intended  principally  for  the  perusal  of  Englishmen  :   and,  there- 

197 


PREFACE  TO  PART  III 


fore,  he  must  not  be  surprised  if  he  find  a  little  bickering  in  a 
group  so  much  of  a  family  cast. 

Wm.  cobbett. 

North  Hempstead, 

10th  December,  1818. 


198 


A  TSARS  'RSSIDSNCS 
IN  AMERICA 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL. 

Philadelphia,  30th  Sept.,  181 8. 

853.  It  seems  necessary,  by  way  of  Introduction  to  the  following 
Journal,  to  say  some  little  matter  respecting  the  author  of  it,  and 
also  respecting  his  motives  for  wishing  it  to  be  published. 

854.  As  to  the  first,  I  am  an  Englishman  by  birth  and  parentage  ; 
and  am  of  the  county  of  Lancaster.  I  was  bred  and  brought  up  at 
farming  work,  and  became  an  apprentice  to  the  business  of 
Bleacher,  at  the  age  of  14  years.  My  own  industry  made  me  a 
master-bleacher,  in  which  state  I  lived  many  years  at  Great 
Lever,  near  Bolton,  where  I  employed  about  140  men,  women, 
and  children,  and  had  generally  about  40  apprentices.  By  this 
business,  pursued  with  incessant  application,  I  had  acquired, 
several  years  ago,  property  to  an  amount  sufficient  to  satisfy  any 
man  of  moderate  desires. 

855.  But,  along  with  my  money  my  children  had  come  and  had 
gone  on  increasing  to  the  number  of  nine.  New  duties  now  arose, 
and  demanded  my  best  attention.  It  was  not  sufficient  that  I  was 
likely  to  have  a  decent  fortune  for  each  child.  I  was  bound  to 
provide,  if  possible,  against  my  children  being  stripped  of  what 
I  had  earned  for  them.  I,  therefore,  looked  seriously  at  the 
situation  of  England  ;  and,  I  saw,  that  the  incomes  of  my  children 

199 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL 

were  all  pawned  (as  my  friend  Cobbett  truly  calls  it)  to  pay  the 
Debts  of  the  Borough,  or  seat,  owners.  I  saw,  that,  of  whatever 
I  might  be  able  to  give  to  my  children,  as  well  as  of  what  they 
might  be  able  to  earn,  more  than  one  half  would  be  taken  away  to 
feed  pensioned  Lords  and  Ladies,  Soldiers  to  shoot  at  us,  Parsons 
to  persecute  us,  and  Fundholders,  who  had  lent  their  money  to 
be  applied  to  purposes  of  enslaving  us.  This  view  of  the  matter 
was  sufficient  to  induce  the  father  of  nine  children  to  think  of  the 
means  of  rescuing  them  from  the  consequences,  which  common 
sense  taught  him  to  apprehend.  But,  there  were  other  con- 
siderations, which  operated  with  me  in  producing  my  emigration 
to  America. 

856.  In  the  year  181 1  and  1812  the  part  of  the  country,  in  which 
I  lived,  was  placed  under  a  new  sort  of  law  :  or,  in  other  words, 
it  was  placed  out  of  the  protection  of  the  old  law  of  the  land. 
Men  were  seized,  dragged  to  prison,  treated  like  convicts,  many 
transported  and  put  to  death,  without  having  committed  any 
thing,  which  the  law  of  the  land  deems  a  crime.  It  was  then  that 
the  infamous  Spy-System  was  again  set  to  work  in  Lancashire, 
in  which  horrid  system  Fletcher  of  Bolton  was  one  of  the  principal 
actors,  or,  rather,  organizers  and  promoters.  At  this  time  I 
endeavoured  to  detect  the  machinations  of  these  dealers  in  human 
blood  ;  and,  I  narrowly  escaped  being  sacrificed  myself  on  the 
testimony  of  two  men,  who  had  their  pardon  offered  them  on 
condition  of  their  swearing  against  me.  The  men  refused,  and 
were  transported,  leaving  wives  and  children  to  starve. 

857.  Upon  this  occasion,  my  friend  Doctor  Taylor,  most 
humanely,  and  with  his  usual  zeal  and  talent,  laboured  to  counter- 
act the  works  of  Fletcher  and  his  associates.  The  Doctor 
published  a  pamphlet  on  the  subject,  in  1812,  which  every  English- 
man should  read.  I,  as  far  as  I  was  able,  co-operated  with  him. 
We  went  to  London,  laid  the  real  facts  before  several  members 
of  the  two  houses  of  Parliament  ;  and,  in  some  degree,  checked 
the  progress  of  the  dealers  in  blood.  I  had  an  interview  with 
Lord  Holland,  and  told  him,  that,  if  he  would  pledge  himself  to 
cause  the  secret-service  money  to  be  kept  in  London,  I  would 
pledge  myself  for  the  keeping  of  the  peace  in  Lancashire.  In 
short,  it  was  necessary,  in  order  to  support  the  tyranny  of  the  seat- 
sellers,  that  terror  should  prevail  in  the  populous  districts.  Blood 
was  wanted  to  flow  ;  and  money  was  given  to  spies  to  tempt  men 
into  what  the  new  law  had  made  crimes. 

858.  From  this  time  I  resolved  not  to  leave  my  children  in  such  a 
state  of  things,  unless  I  should  be  taken  off  very  suddenly.  I  saw 
no  hope  of  obtaining  a  Reform  of  the  Parliament,  without  which 
it  was  clear  to  me,  that  the  people  of  England  must  continue  to 
work  solely  for  the  benefit  of  the  great  insolent  families,  whom  I 
hated  for  their  injustice  and  rapacity,  and  despised  for  their 
meanness  and  ignorance.  I  saw,  in  them,  a  mass  of  debauched 
and  worthless  beings,  having  at  their  command  an  army  to  compel 

200 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL 

the  people  to  surrender  to  them  the  fruits  of  their  industry  ; 
and,  in  addition,  a  body  existing  under  the  garb  of  religion,  almost 
as  despicable  in  point  of  character,  and  still  more  malignant. 

859.  I  could  not  have  died  in  peace,  leaving  my  children  the 
slaves  of  such  a  set  of  beings  ;  and,  I  could  not  live  in  peace, 
knowing  that,  at  any  hour,  I  might  die  and  so  leave  my  family. 
Therefore,  I  resolved,  like  the  Lark  in  the  fable,  to  remove  my 
brood,  which  was  still  more  numerous  than  that  of  the  Lark. 
While  the  war  was  going  on  between  England  and  America,  I 
could  not  come  to  this  country.  Besides,  I  had  great  affairs  to 
arrange.  In  1816,  having  made  my  preparations,  I  set  off,  not 
with  my  family  :  for,  that  I  did  not  think  a  prudent  step.  It  was 
necessary  for  me  to  see  what  America  really  was.  I,  therefore, 
came  for  that  purpose. 

860.  I  was  well  pleased  with  America,  over  a  considerable  part 
of  which  I  travelled.  I  saw  an  absence  of  human  misery.  I  saw 
a  government  taking  away  a  very,  very  small  portion  of  men's 
earnings.  I  saw  ease  and  happiness  and  a  fearless  utterance  of 
thought  every  where  prevail.  I  saw  laws  like  those  of  the  old 
laws  of  England,  every  where  obeyed  with  cheerfulness  and  held 
in  veneration.  I  heard  of  no  mobs,  no  riots,  no  spies,  no 
transportings,  no  hangings.  I  saw  those  very  Irish,  to  keep  whom 
in  order,  such  murderous  laws  exist  in  Ireland,  here  good, 
peaceable,  industrious  citizens.  I  saw  no  placemen  and 
pensioners,  riding  the  people  under  foot.  I  saw  no  greedy 
Priesthood,  fattening  on  the  fruits  of  labour  in  which  they  had 
never  participated,  and  which  fruits  they  seized  in  despite  of  the 
people.  I  saw  a  Debt,  indeed,  but  then,  it  was  so  insignificant  a 
thing  ;  and,  besides,  it  had  been  contracted  for  the  people's  use, 
and  not  for  that  of  a  set  of  tyrants,  who  had  used  the  money  to 
the  injury  of  the  people.  In  short,  I  saw  a  state  of  things,  precisely 
the  reverse  of  that  in  England,  and  very  nearly  what  it  would  be 
in  England,  if  the  Parliament  were  reformed. 

861.  Therefore,  in  the  Autumn  of  1816,  I  returned  to  England 
fully  intending  to  return  the  next  spring  with  my  family  and 
whatever  I  possessed  of  the  fruits  of  my  labours,  and  to  make 
America  my  country  and  the  country  of  that  family.  Upon  my 
return  to  England,  however,  I  found  a  great  stir  about  Reform  : 
and,  having,  in  their  full  force,  all  those  feelings,  which  make  our 
native  country  dear  to  us,  I  said,  at  once,  "  my  desire  is,  not  to 
"  change  country  or  countrymen,  but  to  change  slavery  for 
"  freedom  :  give  me  freedom  here,  and  here  I'll  remain."  These 
are  nearly  the  very  words  that  I  uttered  to  Mr.  Cobbett,  when 
first  introduced  to  him,  in  December,  181 6,  by  that  excellent  man, 
Major  Cartwright.  Nor  was  I  unwilling  to  labour  myself  in  the 
cause  of  Reform.  I  was  one  of  those  very  Delegates,  of  whom 
the  Borough- tyrants  said  so  many  falsehoods,  and  whom  Sir 
Francis  Burdett  so  shamefully  abandoned.  In  the  meeting  of 
Delegates,  I  thought  we  went  too  far  in  reposing  confidence  in 

301 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL 

him  :  I  spoke  my  opinion  as  to  this  point  :  and,  in  a  very  few 
days,  I  had  the  full  proof  of  the  correctness  of  my  opinion.  I 
was  present  when  Major  Cartwright  opened  a  letter  from  Sir 
Francis,  which  had  come  from  Leicestershire.  I  thought  the 
kind-hearted  old  Major  would  have  dropped  upon  the  floor  ! 
I  shall  never  forget  his  looks  as  he  read  that  letter.  If  the  paltry 
Burdett  had  a  hundred  lives,  the  taking  of  them  all  away  would 
not  atone  for  the  pain  he  that  day  gave  to  Major  Cartwright,  not 
to  mention  the  pain  given  to  others,  and  the  injury  done  to  the 
cause.  For  my  part,  I  was  not  much  disappointed.  I  had  no 
opinion  of  Sir  Francis  Burdett's  being  sound.  He  seemed  to  me 
too  much  attached  to  his  own  importance  to  do  the  people  any 
real  service.  He  is  an  aristocrat  :  and  that  is  enough  for  me.  It 
is  folly  to  suppose,  that  such  a  man  will  ever  be  a  real  friend  of  the 
rights  of  the  people.  I  wish  he  were  here  a  little  while.  He 
would  soon  find  his  proper  level  ;  and  that  would  not,  I  think, 
be  very  high.  Mr.  Hunt  was  very  much  against  our  confiding 
in  Burdett  ;  and  he  was  perfectly  right.  I  most  sincerely  hope, 
that  my  countrymen  will  finally  destroy  the  tyrants  who  oppress 
them  ;  but,  I  am  very  sure,  that,  before  they  succeed  in  it,  they 
must  cure  themselves  of  the  folly  of  depending  for  assistance  on 
the  nobles  or  the  half-nobles. 

862.  After  witnessing  this  conduct  in  Burdett,  I  set  off  home, 
and  thought  no  more  about  effecting  a  Reform.  The  Acts  that 
soon  followed  were,  by  me,  looked  upon  as  matters  of  course. 
The  tyranny  could  go  on  no  longer  under  disguise.  It  was  com- 
pelled to  shew  its  naked  face  ;  but,  it  is  now,  in  reality,  not  worse 
than  it  was  before.  It  now  does  no  more  than  rob  the  people, 
and  that  it  did  before.  It  kills  more  now  out-right  ;  but,  men 
may  as  well  be  shot,  or  stabbed,  or  hanged,  as  starved  to  death. 

863.  During  the  Spring  and  the  early  part  of  the  Summer,  of 
1 8 17,  I  made  preparations  for  the  departure  of  myself  and  family, 
and  when  all  was  ready,  I  bid  an  everlasting  adieu  to  Borough- 
mongers,  Sinecure  placemen  and  placewomen,  pensioned  Lords 
and  Ladies,  Standing  Armies  in  time  of  peace,  and  (rejoice,  oh  ! 
my  children  !)  to  a  hireling,  tithe-devouring  Priesthood.  We 
arrived  safe  and  all  in  good  health,  and  which  health  has  never 
been  impaired  by  the  climate.  We  are  in  a  state,  of  ease,  safety, 
plenty  ;  and  how  can  we  help  being  as  happy  as  people  can  be  ? 
The  more  I  see  of  my  adopted  country,  the  more  gratitude  do  I 
feel  towards  it  for  affording  me  and  my  numerous  offspring 
protection  from  the  tyrants  of  my  native  country.  There  I 
should  have  been  in  constant  anxiety  about  my  family.  Here 
I  am  in  none  at  all .  Here  I  am  in  fear  of  no  spies,  no  false  witnesses , 
no  blood-money  men.  Here  no  fines,  irons,  or  gallowses  await  me, 
let  me  think  or  say  what  T  will  about  the  government.  Here 'I 
have  to  pay  no  people  to  be  ready  to  shoot  at  me,  or  run  me  through 
the  body,  or  chop  me  down.  Here  no  vile  Priest  can  rob  me  and 
mock  me  in  the  same  breath. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL 

864.  In  the  year  1816  my  travelling  in  America  was  confined 
to  the  Atlantic  States.  I  there  saw  enough  to  determine  the 
question  of  emigration  or  no  emigration.  But,  a  spot  to  settle 
on  myself  was  another  matter  ;  for,  though  I  do  not  know,  that  I 
shall"  meddle  with  any  sort  of  trade,  or  occupation,  in  the  view 
of  getting  money,  I  ought  to  look  about  me,  and  to  consider 
soberly  as  to  a  spot  to  settle  on  with  so  large  a  family.  It  was 
right,  therefore,  for  me  to  see  the  Western  Countries.  I  have  done 
this  ;  and  the  particulars,  which  I  thought  worthy  my  notice, 
I  noted  down  in  a  Journal .  This  Journal  I  now  submit  to  the 
public.  My  chief  motive  in  the  publication  is  to  endeavour  to 
convey  useful  information,  and  especially  to  those  persons,  who 
may  be  disposed  to  follow  my  example,  and  to  withdraw  their 
families  and  fortunes  from  beneath  the  hoofs  of  the  tyrants  of 
England. 

865.  I  have  not  the  vanity  to  suppose  myself  eminently  qualified 
for  any  thing  beyond  my  own  profession  ;  but  I  have  been  an 
attentive  observer  ;  I  have  raised  a  considerable  fortune  by  my 
own  industry  and  economy  ;  I  have,  all  my  life  long,  studied  the 
matters  connected  with  agriculture,  trade,  and  manufactures.  I 
had  a  desire  to  acquire  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  Western 
Countries,  and  what  I  did  acquire  I  have  endeavoured  to  com- 
municate to  others.  It  was  not  my  object  to  give  flowry 
descriptions.  I  leave  that  to  poets  and  painters.  Neither  have 
I  attempted  any  general  estimate  of  the  means  or  manner  of  living 
or  getting  money,  in  the  West.  But,  I  have  contented  myself 
with  merely  noting  down  the  facts  that  struck  me  ;  and  from 
those  facts  the  reader  must  draw  his  conclusions. 

866.  In  one  respect  I  am  a  proper  person  to  give  an  account  of 
the  Western  Countries.  I  have  no  lands  there  ;  I  have  no  interests 
there  :  I  have  nothing  to  warp  my  judgment  in  favour  of  those 
countries  :  and  yet,  I  have  as  little  in  the  Atlantic  States  to  warp 
my  judgment  in  their  favour.  I  am  perfectly  impartial  in  my 
feelings,  and  am,  therefore,  likely  to  be  impartial  in  my  words. 
My  good  wishes  extend  to  the  utmost  boundary  of  my  adopted 
country.  Every  particular  part  of  it  is  as  dear  to  me  as  every 
other  particular  part. 

867.  I  have  recommended  most  strenuously  the  encouraging 
and  promoting  of  Domestic  Manufacture  :  not  because  I  mean  to 
be  engaged  in  any  such  concern  myself ;  for  it  is  by  no  means 
likely  that  I  ever  shall  ;  but,  because  I  think  that  such  encourage- 
ment and  promotion  would  be  greatly  beneficial  to  America,  and 
because  it  would  provide  a  happy  Asylum  for  my  native  oppressed 
and  distressed  countrymen,  who  have  been  employed  all  the  days 
of  their  lives  in  manufactures  in  England,  where  the  principal 
part  of  the  immense  profits  of  their  labour  is  consumed  by  the 
Borough  tyrants  and  their  friends,  and  expended  for  the  vile 
purpose  of  perpetuating  a  system  of  plunder  and  despotism  at 
home,  and  all  over  the  world. 

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INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  JOURNAL 

868.  Before  I  conclude  this  Introduction,  I  must  observe,  that 
I  see  with  great  pain,  and  with  some  degree  of  shame,  the 
behaviour  of  some  persons  from  England,  who  appear  to  think 
that  they  give  proof  of  their  high  breeding  by  repaying  civility, 
kindness,  and  hospitality,  with  reproach  and  insolence.  However, 
these  persons  are  despised.  They  produce  very  little  impression 
here  ;  and,  though  the  accounts  they  send  to  England,  may  be 
believed  by  some,  they  will  have  little  effect  on  persons  of  sense 
and  virtue.  Truth  will  make  its  way  ;  and  it  is,  thank  God,  now 
making  its  way  with  great  rapidity. 

869.  I  could  mention  numerous  instances  of  Englishmen, 
coming  to  this  country  with  hardly  a  dollar  in  their  pocket,  and 
arriving  at  a  state  of  ease  and  plenty  and  even  riches  in  a  few 
years  ;  and  I  explicitly  declare,  that  I  have  never  known  or  heard 
of,  an  instance  of  one  common  labourer  who,  with  common 
industry  and  economy,  did  not  greatly  better  his  lot.  Indeed, 
how  can  it  otherwise  be,  when  the  average  wages  of  agricultural 
labour  is  double  what  it  is  in  England,  and  when  the  average  price 
of  food  is  not  more  than  half  what  it  is  in  that  country  ?  These 
two  facts,  undeniable  as  they  are,  are  quite  sufficient  to  satisfy 
any  man  of  sound  mind. 

870.  As  to  the  manners  of  the  people,  they  are  precisely  to  my 
taste  :  unostentatious  and  simple.  Good  sense  I  find  every 
where,  and  never  affectation.  Kindness,  hospitality,  and  never- 
failing  civility.  I  have  travelled  more  than  four  thousand  miles 
about  this  country  ;  and  I  never  met  with  one  single  insolent  or 
rude  native  American. 

871.  I  trouble  myself  very  little  about  the  party  politics  of  the 
country.  These  contests  are  the  natural  offspring  of  freedom  ; 
and,  they  tend  to  perpetuate  that  which  produces  them.  I  look 
at  the  people  as  a  whole  :  and  I  love  them  and  feel  grateful  to 
them  for  having  given  the  world  a  practical  proof,  that  peace, 
social  order,  and  general  happiness  can  be  secured,  and  best 
secured,  without  Monarchs,  Dukes,  Counts,  Baronets,  and 
Knights.  I  have  no  unfriendly  feeling  towards  any  Religious 
Society.  I  wish  well  to  every  member  of  every  such  Society  ; 
but,  I  love  the  Quakers,  and  feel  grateful  towards  them,  for  having 
proved  to  the  world,  that  all  the  virtues,  public  as  well  as  private, 
flourish  most  and  bring  forth  the  fairest  fruits  when  unincumbered 
with  those  noxious  weeds,  hireling  priests. 

THOMAS  HULME. 


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872. PITTSBURGH,  June  3.— Arrived  here  with  a  friend  as 
travelling  companion,  by  the  mail  stage  from  Philadelphia,  after 
a  journey  of  six  days  ;  having  set  out  on  the  28th  May.  We  were 
much  pleased  with  the  face  of  the  country,  the  greatest  part  of 
which  was  new  to  me.  The  route,  as  far  as  Lancaster,  lay  through 
a  rich  and  fertile  country,  well  cultivated  by  good,  settled  pro- 
prietors ;  the  road  excellent  :  smooth  as  the  smoothest  in  England, 
and  hard  as  those  made  by  the  cruel  corv&es  in  France.  The 
country  finer,  but  the  road  not  always  so  good,  all  the  way  from 
Lancaster,  by  Little  York,  to  Chambersburgh  ;  after  which  it 
changes  for  mountains  and  poverty,  except  in  timber.  Chambers- 
burgh is  situated  on  the  North  West  side  of  that  fine  valley  which 
lies  between  the  South  and  North  Mountains,  and  which  extends 
from  beyond  the  North  East  boundary  of  Pennsylvania  to  nearly 
the  South  West  extremity  of  North  Carolina,  and  which  has 
limestone  for  its  bottom  and  rich  and  fertile  soil,  and  beauty  upon 
the  face  of  it,  from  one  end  to  the  other.  The  ridges  of  mountains 
called  the  Allegany,  and  forming  the  highest  land  in  North 
America  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  oceans,  begin  here  and 
extend  across  our  route  nearly  100  miles,  or,  rather,  three  days, 
for  it  was  no  less  than  half  the  journey  to  travel  over  them  ;  they 
rise  one  above  the  other  as  we  proceed  Westward,  till  we  reach 
the  Allegany,  the  last  and  most  lofty  of  all,  from  which  we  have 
a  view  to  the  West  farther  than  the  eye  can  carry.  I  can  say 
nothing  in  commendation  of  the  road  over  these  mountains,  but 
I  must  admire  the  drivers,  and  their  excellent  horses.  The  road 
is  every  thing  that  is  bad,  but  the  skill  of  the  drivers,  and  the  well 
constructed  vehicles,  and  the  capital  old  English  horses,  overcome 
every  thing.  We  were  rather  singularly  fortunate  in  not  breaking 
down  or  upsetting  ;  I  certainly  should  not  have  been  surprized 
if  the  whole  thing,  horses  and  all,  had  gone  off  the  road  and  been 
dashed  to  pieces.  A  new  road  is  making,  however,  and  when  that 
is  completed,  the  journey  will  be  shorter  in  point  of  time,  just  one 
half.  A  fine  even  country  we  get  into  immediately  on  descending 
the  Allegany,  with  very  little  appearance  of  unevenness  or  of 
barrenness  all  the  way  to  Pittsburgh  ;  the  evidence  of  good 
land  in  the  crops,  and  the  country  beautified  by  a  various  mixture 
of  woods  and  fields. 

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873.  Very  good  accommodations  for  travellers  the  whole  of  the 
way.  The  stage  stops  to  breakfast  and  to  dine,  and  sleeps  where 
it  sups.  They  literally  feasted  us  every  where,  at  every  meal, 
with  venison  and  good  meat  of  all  sorts  :  every  thing  in  profusion. 
In  one  point,  however,  I  must  make  an  exception,  with  regard  to 
some  houses  :  at  night  I  was  surprized,  in  taverns  so  well  kept 
in  other  respects,  to  find  bugs  in  the  beds  1  I  am  sorry  to  say  I 
observed  (or,  rather,  felt)  this  too  often.  Always  good  eating 
and  drinking,  but  not  always  good  sleeping. 

874.  June  4th  and  5th. — Took  a  view  of  Pittsburgh.  It  is 
situated  between  the  mouths  of  the  rivers  Allegany  and  Monon- 
gahela,  at  the  point  where  they  meet  and  begin  the  Ohio,  and  is 
laid  out  in  a  triangular  form,  so  that  two  sides  of  it  lie  contiguous 
to  the  water.  Called  upon  Mr.  Bakewell,  to  whom  we  were 
introduced  by  letter,  and  who  very  obligingly  satisfied  our 
curiosity  to  see  every  thing  of  importance.  After  showing  us 
through  his  extensive  and  well  conducted  glass  works,  he  rowed 
us  across  the  Monongahela  to  see  the  mines  from  which  the  fine 
coals  we  had  seen  burning  were  brought.  These  coals  are  taken 
out  from  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  very  near  to  the  river,  and  brought 
from  thence  and  laid  down  in  any  part  of  the  town  for  7  cents  the 
bushel,  weighing,  perhaps,  80  lbs.  Better  coals  I  never  saw.  A 
bridge  is  now  building  over  the  river,  by  which  they  will  most 
probably  be  brought  still  cheaper. 

875.  This  place  surpasses  even  my  expectations,  both  in  natural 
resources  and  in  extent  of  manufactures.  Here  are  the  materials 
for  every  species  of  manufacture,  nearly,  and  of  excellent  quality 
and  in  profusion.  ;  and  these  means  have  been  taken  advantage 
of  by  skilful  and  industrious  artisans  and  mechanics  from  all  parts 
of  the  world.  There  is  scarcely  a  denomination  of  manufacture 
or  manual  profession  that  is  not  carried  on  to  a  great  extent,  and, 
as  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  examine,  in  the  best  manner.  The 
manufacture  of  iron  in  all  the  different  branches,  and  the  mills  of 
all  sorts,  which  I  examined  with  the  most  attention,  are  admirable. 

876.  Price  of  flour,  from  4  to  5  dollars  a  barrel  ;  butter  14  cents 
per  lb.  ;  other  provisions  in  proportion,  and  mechanic's  and  good 
labourer's  wages  1  dollar,  and  ship-builder's  1  dollar  and  a  half, 
a  day. 

877.  June  6th. — Leave  Pittsburgh,  and  set  out  in  a  thing  called 
an  ark;  which  we  buy  for  the  purpose,  down  the  Ohio.  We  have, 
besides,  a  small  skiff,  to  tow  the  ark  and  go  ashore  occasionally. 
This  ark,  which  would  stow  away  eight  persons,  close  packed,  is  a 
thing  by  no  means  pleasant  to  travel  in,  especially  at  night.  It  is 
strong  at  bottom,  but  may  be  compared  to  an  orange-box,  bowed 
over  at  top,  and  so  badly  made  as  to  admit  a  boy's  hand  to  steal 
the  oranges  :  it  is  proof  against  the  river,  but  not  against  the  rain. 

878.  Just  on  going  to  push  off  the  wharf,  an  English  officer 
stepped  on  board  of  us,  with  all  the  curiosity  imaginable.  I  at 
once  took  him  for  a  spy  hired  to  way-lay  travellers.     He  began 

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a  talk  about  the  Western  countries,  anxiously  assuring  us  that  we 
need  not  hope  to  meet  with  such  a  thing  as  a  respectable  person 
travel  where  we  would.  I  told  him  I  hoped  in  God  I  should  see 
no  spy  or  informer,  whether  in  plain  clothes  or  regimentals,  and 
that  of  one  thing  I  was  certain,  at  any  rate  ;  that  I  should  find  no 
Sinecure  placeman  or  pensioner  in  the  Western  country. 

879.  The  Ohio,  at  its  commencement,  is  about  600  yards  broad, 
and  continues  running  with  nearly  parallel  sides,  taking  two  or 
three  different  directions  in  its  course,  for  about  200  miles.  There 
is  a  curious  contrast  between  the  waters  which  form  this  river  : 
that  of  the  Allegany  is  clear  and  transparent,  that  of  the  Monon- 
gahela  thick  and  muddy,  and  it  is  not  for  a  considerable  distance 
that  they  entirely  mingle.  The  sides  of  the  river  are  beautiful  ; 
there  are  always  rich  bottom  lands  upon  the  banks,  which  are  steep 
and  pretty  high,  varying  in  width  from  a  few  yards  to  a  mile,  and 
skirted  with  steep  hills  varying  also  in  height,  overhanging  with 
fine  timber. 

880.  June  nth. — Floating  down  the  Ohio,  at  the  rate  of  four 
miles  an  hour.  Lightning,  thunder,  rain  and  hail  pelting  in  upon 
us.  The  hail-stones  as  large  as  English  hazle-nuts.  Stop  at 
Steubenville  all  night.  A  nice  place  ;  has  more  stores  than 
taverns,  which  is  a  good  sign. 

881.  June  8th. — Came  to  Wheeling  at  about  12  o'clock.  It  is 
a  handsome  place,  and  of  considerable  note.  Stopped  about  an 
hour.  Found  flour  to  be  about  4  to  5  dollars  a  barrel  ;  fresh 
beef  4  to  6  cents  per  lb.,  and  other  things  (the  produce  of  the 
country)  about  the  same  proportion.  Labourers'  wages,  1  dollar 
a  day.     Fine  coals  here,  and  at  Steubenville. 

882.  June  gth. — Two  fine  young  men  ioin  us,  one  a  carpenter 
and  the  other  a  saddler,  from  Washington,  in  a  skiff  that  they  have 
bought  at  Pittsburgh,  and  in  which  they  are  taking  a  journey  of 
about  700  miles  down  the  river.  We  allow  them  to  tie  their  skiff 
to  our  ark,  for  which  they  very  cheerfully  assist  us.  Much 
diverted  to  see  the  nimbleness  with  which  they  go  on  shore  some- 
times with  their  rifles  to  shoot  pigeons  and  squirrels.  The 
whole  expences  of  these  two  young  men  in  floating  the  700  miles, 
will  be  but  7  dollars  each,  including  skiff  and  every  thing  else. 

883.  This  day  pass  Marietta,  a  good  looking  town  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Muskingham  River.  It  is,  however,  like  many  other  towns 
on  the  Ohio,  built  on  too  low  ground,  and  is  subject  to  inundations. 
Here  I  observe  a  contrivance  of  great  ingenuity.  There  is  a  strong 
rope  put  across  the  mouth  of  the  river,  opposite  the  town,  fastened 
to  trees  or  large  posts  on  each  side  ;  upon  this  rope  runs  a  pulley 
or  block,  to  which  is  attached  a  rope,  and  to  the  rope  a  ferry-boat, 
which,  by  moving  the  helm  first  one  way  and  then  the  other,  is 
propelled  by  the  force  of  the  water  across  the  river  backwards 
or  forwards. 

884.  June  10th. — Pass  several  fine  coal  mines,  which,  like  those 
at  Pittsburgh,  Steubenville,  Wheeling  and  other  places,  are  not 

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above  50  yards  from  the  river  and  are  upwards  of  10  yards  above 
high  water.  The  river  now  becomes  more  winding  than  we  have 
hitherto  found  it.  It  is  sometimes  so  serpentine  that  it  appears 
before  and  behind  like  a  continuation  of  lakes,  and  the  hills  on 
its  banks  seem  to  be  the  separations.  Altogether,  nothing  can 
be  more  beautiful. 

885.  June  nth. — A  very  hot  day,  but  I  could  not  discover  the 
degree  of  heat.  On  going  along  we  bought  two  Perch,  weighing 
about  8  lbs.  each,  for  25  cents,  of  a  boy  who  was  fishing.  Fish 
of  this  sort  will  sometimes  weigh  30  lbs.  each. 

886.  June  12th. — Pass  Portsmouth,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Scioto 
River.  A  sort  of  village,  containing  a  hundred  or  two  of  houses. 
Not  worthy  of  any  particular  remark. 

887.  June  13th. — Arrived  at  Cincinnati  about  midnight.  Tied 
our  ark  to  a  large  log  at  the  side  of  the  river,  and  went  to  sleep. 
Before  morning,  however,  the  fastening  broke,  and,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  a  watchful  back-woods-man  whom  we  had  taken  on 
board  some  distance  up  the  river,  we  might  have  floated  ten  or 
fifteen  miles  without  knowing  it.  This  back-woods-man,  besides 
being  of  much  service  to  us,  has  been  a  very  entertaining  com- 
panion. He  says  he  has  been  in  this  country  forty  years,  but  that 
he  is  an  Englishman,  and  was  bred  in  Sherwood  Forest  (he  could 
not  have  come  from  a  better  nursery).  All  his  adventures  he 
detailed  to  us  very  minutely,  but  dwelt  with  particular  warmth 
upon  one  he  had  had  with  a  priest,  lately,  who,  to  spite  him  for 
preaching,  brought  an  action  against  him,  but  was  cast  and  had  to 
pay  costs. 

888.  June  14th  and  i$th. — Called  upon  Doctor  Drake  and  upon 
a  Mr.  Bosson,  to  whom  we  had  letters.  These  gentlemen  shewed 
us  the  greatest  civility,  and  treated  us  with  a  sort  of  kindness 
which  must  have  changed  the  opinion  even  of  the  English  officer 
whom  we  saw  at  Pittsburgh,  had  he  been  with  us.  I  could  tell 
that  dirty  hireling  scout,  that  even  in  this  short  space  of  time,  I 
have  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  many  gentlemen,  very  well  in- 
formed, and  possessing  great  knowledge  as  to  their  own  country, 
evincing  public  spirit  in  all  their  actions,  and  hospitality  and 
kindness  in  all  their  demeanor  ;  but,  if  they  be  pensioners,  male 
or  female,  or  sinecure  place  lords  or  ladies,  I  have  yet  come  across, 
thank  God,  no  respectable  people. 

889.  Cincinnati  is  a  very  fine  town,  and  elegantly  (not  only  in 
the  American  acceptation  of  the  word)  situated  on  the  banks  of 
the  rivet,  nearly  opposite  to  Licking  Creek,  which  runs  out  of 
Kentucky,  and  is  a  stream  of  considerable  importance.  The 
country  round  the  town  is  beautiful,  and  the  soil  rich  ;  the  fields 
in  its  immediate  vicinity  bear  principally  grass,  and  clover  of 
different  sorts,  the  fragrant  smell  of  which  perfumes  the  air. 
The  town  itself  ranks  next  to  Pittsburgh,  of  the  towns  on  the 
Ohio,  in  point  of  manufactures. 

k    890.  We  sold  our  ark,  and  its  produce  formed  a  deduction  from 

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our  expences,  which,  with  that  deduction,  amounted  to  14  dollars 
each,  including  every  thing,  for  the  journey  from  Pittsburgh  to 
this  place,  which  is  upwards  of  500  miles.  I  could  not  but 
remark  the  price  of  fuel  here  ;  2  dollars  a  cord  for  Hickory  ;  a 
cord  is  8  feet  by  4,  and  4  deep,  and  the  wood,  the  best  in  the  world  ; 
it  burns  much  like  green  Ash,  but  gives  more  heat.  This,  which 
is  of  course  the  highest  price  for  fuel  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
is  only  about  a  fifth  of  what  it  is  at  Philadelphia. 

891.  June  16th. — Left  Cincinnati  for  Louisville  with  seven 
other  persons,  in  a  skiff  about  20  feet  long  and  5  feet  wide. 

892.  June  ijth. — Stopped  at  Vevay,  a  very  neat  and  beautiful 
place,  about  70  miles  above  the  falls  of  the  Ohio.  Our  visit 
here  was  principally  to  see  the  mode  used,  as  well  as  what  progress 
was  made,  in  the  cultivation  of  the  vine,  and  I  had  a  double 
curiosity,  never  having  as  yet  seen  a  vineyard.  These  vineyards 
are  cultivated  entirely  by  a  small  settlement  of  Swiss,  of  about 
a  dozen  families,  who  have  been  here  about  ten  years.  They 
first  settled  on  the  Kentucky  river,  but  did  not  succeed  there. 
They  plant  the  vines  in  rows,  attached  to  stakes  like  espaliers,  and 
they  plough  between  with  a  one-horse  plough.  The  grapes, 
which  are  of  the  sorts  of  claret  and  madeira,  look  very  fine  and 
luxuriant,  and  will  be  ripe  in  about  the  middle  of  September. 
The  soil  and  climate  both  appear  to  be  quite  congenial  to  the 
growth  of  the  vine  :  the  former  rich  and  the  latter  warm.  The 
north  west  wind,  when  it  blows,  is  very  cold,  but  the  south,  south 
east  and  south  west  winds,  which  are  always  warm,  are  prevalent. 
The  heat,  in  the  middle  of  the  summer,  I  understand,  is  very 
great,  being  generally  above  85  degrees,  and  sometimes  above  100 
degrees.  Each  of  these  families  has  a  farm  as  well  as  a  vineyard, 
so  that  they  supply  themselves  with  almost  every  necessary  and 
have  their  wine  all  clear  profit.  Their  produce  will  this  year  be 
probably  not  less  than  5000  gallons  ;  we  bought  2  gallons  of  it  at 
a  dollar  each,  as  good  as  I  would  wish  to  drink.  Thus  it  is  that 
the  tyrants  of  Europe  create  vineyards  in  this  new  country  ! 

893.  June  18th. — Arrived  at  Louisvile,  Kentucky.  The  town 
is  situated  at  the  commencement  of  the  falls,  or  rapids,  of  the 
Ohio.  The  river,  at  this  place,  is  little  less  than  a  mile  wide,  and 
the  falls  continue  from  a  ledge  of  rocks  which  runs  across  the 
river  in  a  sloping  direction  at  this  part,  to  Shippingport,  about 
2  miles  lower  down.  Perceiving  stagnant  waters  about  the  town, 
and  an  appearance  of  the  house  that  we  stopped  at  being  infested 
with  bugs,  we  resolved  not  to  make  any  stay  at  Louisville,  but  got 
into  our  skiff  and  floated  down  the  falls  to  Shippingport.  We 
found  it  very  rough  floating,  not  to  say  dangerous.  The  river 
of  very  unequal  widths  and  full  of  islands  and  rocks  along  this 
short  distance,  and  the  current  very  rapid,  though  the  descent  is 
not  more  than  22  feet.  At  certain  times  of  the  year  the  water 
rises  so  that  there  is  no  fall  ;    large  boats  can  then  pass. 

894.  At  Shippingport,  stopped  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Berthoud, 

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a  very  respectable  French  gentleman,  from  whom  we  received 
the  greatest  civility  during  our  stay,  which  was  two  night?,  and  the 
day  intervening. 

895.  Shippingport  is  situated  at  a  place  of  very  great  importance, 
being  the  upper  extremity  of  that  part  of  the  river  which  is 
navigable  for  heavy  steam-boats.  All  the  goods  coming  from 
the  country  are  re-shipped,  and  every  thing  going  to  it  is  un- 
shipped, here.  Mr.  Berthoud  has  the  store  in  which  the  articles 
exporting  or  importing  are  lodged  ;  and  is,  indeed,  a  great  shipper, 
though  at  a  thousand  miles  from  the  sea. 

896.  June  2.0th. — Left  the  good  and  comfortable  house  of  Mr. 
Berthoud,  very  much  pleased  with  him  and  his  amiable  wife  and 
family,  though  I  differed  with  him  a  little  in  politics.  Having 
been  taught  at  church,  when  a  boy,  that  the  Pope  was  the  whore 
of  Babylon,  that  the  Bourbons  were  tyrants,  and  that  the  Priests 
and  privileged  orders  of  France  were  impostors  and  petty  tyrants 
under  them,  I  could  not  agree  with  him  in  applauding  the  Borough- 
mongers  of  England  for  re-subjugating  the  people  of  France,  and 
restoring  the  Bourbons,  the  Pope,  and  the  Inquisition. 

897.  Stop  at  New  Albany,  2  miles  below  Shippingport,  till  the 
evening.  A  Mr.  Paxton,  I  am  told,  is  the  proprietor  of  a  great 
part  of  the  town,  and  has  the  grist  and  saw- mills,  which  are  worked 
by  steam,  and  the  ferry  across  the  river.  Leave  this  place  in 
company  with  a  couple  of  young  men  from  the  western  part  of 
the  state  of  New  York,  who  are  on  their  way  to  Tennessee  in  a 
small  ferry-boat.  Their  whole  journey  will,  probably,  be  about 
1,500  miles. 

898.  June  21st. — Floating  down  the  river,  without  any  thing  in 
particular  occurring. 

899.  June  2,2nd. — Saw  a  Mr.  Johnstone  and  his  wife  reaping 
wheat  on  the  side  of  the  river.  They  told  us  they  had  come  to 
this  spot  last  year,  direct  from  Manchester,  Old  England,  and 
had  bought  their  little  farm  of  55  acres  of  a  back- woods-man 
who  had  cleared  it,  and  was  glad  to  move  further  westward,  for  3 
dollars  an  acre.  They  had  a  fine  flock  of  little  children,  and  pigs 
and  poultry,  and  were  cheerful  and  happy,  being  confident  that 
their  industry  and  economy  v/ould  not  be  frustrated  by  visits  for 
tithes  or  taxes. 

900.  June  23rd. — See  great  quantities  of  turkey-buzzards  and 
thousands  of  pigeons.  Came  to  Pigeon  Creek,  about  230  miles 
below  the  Falls,  and  stopped  for  the  night  at  Evansville,  a  town 
of  nine  months  old,  near  the  mouth  of  it.  We  are  now  frequently 
met  and  passed  by  large,  fine  steam-boats,  plying  up  and  down 
the  river.  One  went  by  us  as  we  arrived  here  which  had  left 
Shippingport  only  the  evening  before.  They  go  down  the  river 
at  the  rate  of  10  miles  an  hour,  and  charge  passengers  6  cents,  a 
mile,  boarding  and  lodging  included.  The  price  is  great,  but  the 
time  is  short. 

901.  June  2d.th. — Left  Evansville.     This  little  place  is  rapidly 

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increasing,  and  promises  to  be  a  town  of  considerable  trade.  It 
is  situated  at  a  spot  which  seems  likely  to  become  a  port  for 
shipping  to  Princeton  and  a  pretty  large  district  of  Indiana.  I 
find  that  the  land  speculators  have  made  entry  of  the  most  eligible 
tracts  of  land,  which  will  impede  the  partial,  though  not  the  final 
progress  of  population  and  improvement  in  this  part  of  the  state. 

902.  On  our  way  to  Princeton,  we  see  large  flocks  of  fine  wild 
turkeys,  and  whole  herds  of  pigs,  apparently  very  fat.  The  pigs 
are  wild  also,  but  have  become  so  from  neglect.  Some  of  the 
inhabitants,  who  prefer  sport  to  work,  live  by  shooting  these  wild 
turkeys  and  pigs,  and,  indeed,  sometimes,  I  understand,  they 
shoot  and  carry  off  those  of  their  neighbours  before  they  are 
wild. 

903.  June  25th. — Arrived  at  Princeton,  Indiana,  about  20  miles 
from  the  river.  I  was  sorry  to  see  very  little  doing  in  this  town. 
They  cannot  all  keep  stores  and  taverns  !  One  of  the  store- 
keepers told  me  he  does  not  sell  more  than  ten  thousand  dollars 
value  per  annum  :  he  ought,  then,  to  manufacture  something 
and  not  spend  nine  tenths  of  his  time  in  lolling  with  a  segar  in  his 
mouth. 

904.  June  26th. — At  Princeton,  endeavouring  to  purchase 
horses,  as  we  had  now  gone  far  enough  down  the  Ohio.  While 
waiting  in  our  tavern,  two  men  called  in  armed  with  rifles,  and 
made  enquiries  for  some  horses  they  suspected  to  be  stolen. 
They  told  us  they  had  been  almost  all  the  way  from  Albany,  to 
Shawnee  town  after  them,  a  distance  of  about  150  miles.  I 
asked  them  how  they  would  be  able  to  secure  the  thieves,  if  they 
overtook  them,  in  these  wild  woods  ;  "  O  "  said  they,  "  shoot 
'  them  off  the  horses."  This  is  a  summary  mode  of  executing 
justice,  thought  I,  though  probably  the  most  effectual,  and,  indeed, 
only  one  in  this  state  of  society.  A  thief  very  rarely  escapes  here  ; 
not  nearly  so  often  as  in  more  populous  districts.  The  fact  was, 
in  this  case,  however,  we  discovered  afterwards,  that  the  horses 
had  strayed  away,  and  had  returned  home  by  this  time.  But, 
if  they  had  been  stolen,  the  stealers  would  not  have  escaped. 
When  the  loser  is  tired,  another  will  take  up  the  pursuit,  and  the 
whole  country  is  up  in  arms  till  he  is  found. 

$05.  June  27th. — Still  at  Princeton.  At  last  we  get  suited  with 
horses.  Mine  costs  me  only  135  dollars  v/ith  the  bridle  and 
saddle,  and  that  I  am  told  is  18  dollars  too  much. 

906.  June  28th. — Left  Princeton,  and  set  out  to  see  Mr.  Eirk- 
beck's  settlement,  in  Illinois,  about  35  miles  from  Princeton. 
Before  we  got  to  the  Wabash  we  had  to  cross  a  swamp  of  half  a 
mile  wide  ;  we  were  obliged  to  lead  our  horses,  and  walk  up  to 
the  knees  in  mud  and  water.  Before  we  got  half  across  we  began 
to  think  of  going  back  ;  but,  there  is  a  sound  bottom  under  it 
all,  and  we  waded  through  it  as  well  as  we  could.  It  is,  in  fact, 
nothing  but  a  bed  of  very  soft  and  rich  land,  and  only  wants 
draining  to  be  made  productive.     We  soon  after  came  to  the 


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banks  of  the  great  Wabash,  which  is  here  about  half  a  mile  broad, 
and  as  the  ferryboat  was  crossing  over  with  us  I  amused  myself 
by  washing  my  dirty  boots.  Before  we  mounted  again  we  hap- 
pened to  meet  with  a  neighbour  of  Mr.  Birkbeck's,  who  was 
returning  home  ;  we  accompanied  him,  and  soon  entered  into  the 
prairie  lands,  up  to  our  horses'  bellies  in  fine  grass.  These 
prairies,  which  are  surrounded  with  lofty  woods,  put  me  in  mind 
of  immense  noblemen's  parks  in  England.  Some  of  those  we 
passed  over  are  called  wet  prairies,  but,  they  are  dry  at  this  time 
of  the  year  ;  and,  as  they  are  none  of  them  flat,  they  need  but  very 
simple  draining  to  carry  off  the  water  all  the  year  round.  Our 
horses  were  very  much  tormented  with  flies,  some  as  large  as  the 
English  horse-fly  and  some  as  large  as  the  wasp  ;  these  flies  infest 
the  prairies  that  are  unimproved  about  three  months  in  the  year, 
but  go  away  altogether  as  soon  as  cultivation  begins. 

907.  Mr.  Birkbeck's  settlement  is  situated  between  the  two 
Wabashes,  and  is  about  ten  miles  from  the  nearest  navigable  water  ; 
we  arrived  there  about  sun-set,  and  met  with  a  welcome  which 
amply  repaid  us  for  our  day's  toil.  We  found  that  gentleman  with 
his  two  sons  perfectly  healthy  and  in  high  spirits  :  his  daughters 
were  at  Henderson  (a  town  in  Kentucky,  on  the  Ohio)  on  a  visit. 
At  present  his  habitation  is  a  cabin,  the  building  of  which  cost  only 
20  dollars  ;  this  little  hutch  is  near  the  spot  where  he  is  about  to 
build  his  house,  which  he  intends  to  have  in  the  most  eligible 
situation  in  the  prairie  for  convenience  to  fuel  and  for  shelter  in 
winter,  as  well  as  for  breezes  in  summer,  and  will,  when  that  is 
completed,  make  one  of  its  appurtenances.  I  like  this  plan  of 
keeping  the  old  log-house  ;  it  reminds  the  grand  children  and 
their  children's  children  of  what  their  ancestor  has  done  for  their 
sake. 

908.  Few  settlers  had  as  yet  joined  Mr.  Birkbeck  ;  that  is  to 
say,  settlers  likely  to  become  "  society  "  ;  he  has  labourers  enough 
near  him,  either  in  his  own  houses  or  on  land  of  their  own  joining 
his  estate.  He  was  in  daily  expectation  of  his  friends  Mr. 
Flower's  family,  however,  with  a  large  party  besides  ;  they  had 
just  landed  at  Shawnee  Town,  about  20  miles  distant.      Mr. 

Birkbeck  informs  me  he  has  made  entry  of  a  large  tract  of  land, 
lying,  part  of  it,  all  the  way  from  his  residence  to  the  great  Wabash  ; 
this  he  will  re-sell  again  in  lots  to  any  of  his  friends,  they  taking 
as  much  of  it  and  wherever  they  choose  (provided  it  be  no  more 
than  they  can  cultivate),  at  an  advance  which  I  think  very  fair 
and  liberal. 

909.  The  whole  of  his  operations  had  been  directed  hitherto 
(and  wisely  in  my  opinion)  to  building,  fencing,  and  other 
important  preparations.  He  had  done  nothing  in  the  cultivating 
way  but  make  a  good  garden,  which  supplies  him  with  the  only 
things  that  he  cannot  purchase,  and,  at  present,  perhaps,  with 
more  economy  than  he  could  grow  them.  He  is  within  twenty 
miles  of  Harmony,  in  Indiana,  where  he  gets  his  flour  and^all 


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other  necessaries  (the  produce  of  the  country),  and  therefore 
employs  himself  much  better  in  making  barns  and  houses  and 
mills  for  the  reception  and  disposal  of  his  crops,  and  fences  to 
preserve  them  while  growing,  before  he  grows  them,  than  to  get 
the  crops  first.  I  have  heard  it  observed  that  any  American  settler, 
even  without  a  dollar  in  his  pocket,  would  have  had  something 
growing  by  this  time.  Very  true  !  I  do  not  question  that  at  all  ; 
for,  the  very  first  care  of  a  settler  without  a  dollar  in  his  pocket 
is  to  get  something  to  eat,  and,  he  would  consequently  set  to  work 
scratching  up  the  earth,  fully  confident  that  after  a  long  summering 
upon  wild  flesh  (without  salt,  perhaps)  his  own  belly  would  stand 
him  for  barn,  if  his  jaws  would  not  for  mill.  But  the  case  is  very 
different  with  Mr.  Birkbeck,  and  at  present  he  has  need  for  no 
other  provision  for  winter  but  about  a  three  hundredth  part  of 
his  fine  grass  turned  into  hay,  which  will  keep  his  necessary  horses 
and  cows  ;  besides  which  he  has  nothing  that  eats  but  such  pigs 
as  live  upon  the  waste,  and  a  couple  of  fine  young  deer  (which 
would  weigh,  they  say  when  full  grown,  200  lbs.  dead  weight), 
that  his  youngest  son  is  rearing  up  as  pets. 

910.  I  very  much  admire  Mr.  Birkbeck's  mode  of  fencing.  He 
makes  a  ditch  4  feet  wide  at  top,  sloping  to  1  foot  wide  at  bottom, 
and  4  feet  deep.  With  the  earth  that  comes  out  of  the  ditch  he 
makes  a  bank  on  one  side,  which  is  turfed  towards  the  ditch. 
Then  a  long  pole  is  put  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  ditch  to  2  feet 
above  the  bank  ;  this  is  crossed  by  a  short  pole  from  the  other 
side,  and  then  a  rail  is  laid  along  between  the  forks.  The  banks 
were  growing  beautifully,  and  looked  altogether  very  neat  as  well 
as  formidable  ;  though  a  live  hedge  (which  he  intends  to  have) 
instead  of  dead  poles  and  rails,  upon  top,  would  make  the  fence 
far  more  effectual  as  well  as  handsomer.  I  am  always  surprized, 
until  I  reflect  how  universally  and  to  what  a  degree,  farming  is 
neglected  in  this  country,  that  this  mode  of  fencing  is  not  adopted 
in  cultivated  districts,  especially  where  the  land  is  wet,  or  lies 
low  ,  for,  there  it  answers  a  double  purpose,  being  as  effectual 
a  drain  as  it  is  a  fence. 

911.  I  was  rather  disappointed,  or  sorry,  at  any  rate,  not  to  find 
near  Mr.  Birkbeck's  any  of  the  means  for  machinery  or  of  the 
materials  for  manufactures,  such  as  the  water-falls,  and  the 
minerals  and  mines,  which  are  possessed  in  such  abundance  by 
the  states  of  Ohio  and  Kentucky,  and  by  some  parts  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. Some  of  these,  however,  he  may  yet  find.  Good  water 
he  has,  at  any  rate.  He  showed  me  a  well  25  feet  deep,  bored 
partly  through  hard  substances  near  the  bottom,  that  was  nearly 
overflowing  with  water  of  excellent  quality. 

912.  July  1st. — Left  Mr.  Birkbeck's  for  Harmony,  Indiana. 
The  distance  by  the  direct  way  is  about  18  miles,  but  there  is  no 
road,  as  yet  ;  indeed,  it  was  often  with  much  difficulty  that  we 
could  discover  the  way  at  all.  After  we  had  crossed  the  Wabash, 
which  we  did  at  a  place  called  Davis's  Ferry,  we  hired  a  man  to 

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conduct  us  some  part  of  the  way  through  the  woods.  In  about 
a  mile  he  brought  us  to  a  track,  which  was  marked  out  by  slips 
of  bark  being  stripped  off  the  trees,  once  in  about  40  yards  ;  he 
then  left  us,  and  told  us  we  could  not  mistake  if  we  followed  that 
track.  We  soon  lost  all  appearance  of  the  track,  however,  and  of 
the  "  biasing  "  of  the  trees,  as  they  call  it  ;  but,  as  it  was  useless 
to  go  back  again  for  another  guide,  our  only  way  was  to  keep 
straight  on  in  the  same  direction,  bring  us  where  it  would.  Having 
no  compass,  this  nearly  cost  us  our  sight,  for  it  was  just  mid-day, 
and  we  had  to  gaze  at  the  sun  a  long  time  before  we  discovered 
what  was  our  course.  After  this  we  soon,  to  our  great  joy,  found 
ourselves  in  a  large  corn  field  ;  rode  round  it,  and  came  to  John- 
son's Ferry,  a  place  where  a  Bayou  (Boyau)  of  the  Wabash  is 
crossed.  This  Bayou  is  a  run  out  of  the  main  river,  round  a  fiat 
portion  of  land,  which  is  sometimes  overflowed  :  it  is  part  of  the 
same  river,  and  the  land  encompassed  by  it,  an  island.  Crossed 
this  ferry  in  a  canoe,  and  got  a  ferry-man  to  swim  our  horses  after 
us.  Mounted  again  and  followed  a  track  which  brought  us  to 
Black  River,  which  we  forded  without  getting  wet,  by  holding 
our  feet  up.  After  crossing  the  river  we  found  a  man  who  was 
kind  enough  to  shew  us  about  half  a  mile  through  the  woods,  by 
which  our  journey  was  shortened  five  or  six  miles.  He  put  us  into 
a  direct  track  to  Harmony,  through  lands  as  rich  as  a  dung-hill, 
and  covered  with  immense  timber  ;  we  thanked  him,  and  pushed 
on  our  horses  with  eager  curiosity  to  see  this  far-famed  Harmonist 
Society. 

913.  On  coming  within  the  precincts  of  the  Harmonites  we 
found  ourselves  at  the  side  of  the  Wabash  again  ;  the  river  on 
our  right  hand,  and  their  lands  on  our  left.  Our  road  now  lay 
across  a  field  of  Indian  corn,  of,  at  the  very  least,  a  mile  in  width, 
and  bordering  the  town  on  the  side  we  entered  ;  I  wanted  nothing 
more  than  to  behold  this  immense  field  of  most  beautiful  corn  to 
be  at  once  convinced  of  all  I  had  heard  of  the  industry  of  this 
society  of  Germans,  and  I  found,  on  proceeding  a  little  farther, 
that  the  progress  they  had  made  exceeded  all  my  idea  of  it. 

914.  The  town  is  methodically  laid  out  in  a  situation  well 
chosen  in  all  respects  ;  the  houses  are  good  and  clean,  and  have, 
each  one,  a  nice  garden  well  stocked  with  all  vegetables  and  tastily 
ornamented  with  flowers.  I  observe  that  these  people  are  very 
fond  of  flowers,  by  the  bye  ;  the  cultivation  of  them,  and  musick, 
are  their  chief  amusements.  I  am  sorry  to  see  this,  as  it  is  to  me 
a  strong  symptom  of  simplicity  and  ignorance,  if  not  a  badge  of 
their  German  slavery.  Perhaps  the  pains  they  take  with  them 
is  the  cause  of  their  flowers  being  finer  than  any  I  have  hitherto 
seen  in  America,  but,  most  probably,  the  climate  here  is  more 
favourable.  Having  refreshed  ourselves  at  the  Tavern,  where 
we  found  every  thing  we  wanted  for  ourselves  and  our  horses, 
and  all  very  clean  and  nice,  besides  many  good  things  we  did  not 
expect,  such  as  beer,  porter,  and  even  wine,  all  made  within  the 

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Society,  and  very  good  indeed,  we  then  went  out  to  see  the  people 
at  their  harvest,  which  was  just  begun.  There  were  150  men  and 
women  all  reaping  in  the  same  field  of  wheat.  A  beautiful  sight  ! 
The  crop  was  very  fine,  and  the  field,  extending  to  about  two 
miles  in  length,  and  from  half  a  mile  to  a  mile  in  width,  was  all 
open  to  one  view,  the  sun  shining  on  it  from  the  West,  and  the 
reapers  advancing  regularly  over  it, 

915.  At  sun-set  all  the  people  came  in,  from  the  fields,  work- 
shops, mills,  manufactories,  and  from  all  their  labours.  This 
being  their  evening  for  prayer  during  the  week,  the  Church  bell 
called  them  out  again,  in  about  15  minutes,  to  attend  a  lecture 
from  their  High  Priest  and  Law-giver,  Mr.  George  Rapp.  We 
went  to  hear  the  lecture,  or,  rather,  to  see  the  performance,  for, 
it  being  all  performed  in  German,  we  could  understand  not  a 
word.  The  people  were  all  collected  in  a  twinkling,  the  men  at 
one  end  of  the  Church  and  the  women  at  the  other  ;  it  looked 
something  like  a  Quaker  Meeting,  except  that  there  was  not  a 
single  little  child  in  the  place.  Here  they  were  kept  by  their 
Pastor  a  couple  of  hours,  after  which  they  returned  home  to  bed. 
This  is  the  quantum  of  Church-service  they  perform  during  the 
week  ;  but  on  Sundays  they  are  in  Church  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  time  from  getting  up  to  going  to  bed.  When  it  happens  that 
Mr.  Rapp  cannot  attend,  either  by  indisposition  or  other  accident, 
the  Society  still  meet  as  usual,  and  the  elders  (certain  of  the  most 
trusty  and  discreet,  whom  the  Pastor  selects  as  a  sort  of  assistants 
in  his  divine  commission)  converse  on  religious  subjects. 

916.  Return  to  the  Tavern  to  sleep  ;  a  good  comfortable  house, 
well  kept  by  decent  people,  and  the  master  himself,  who  is  very 
intelligent  and  obliging,  is  one  of  the  very  few  at  Harmony  who 
can  speak  English.  Our  beds  were  as  good  as  those  stretched 
upon  by  the  most  highly  pensioned  and  placed  Boroughmongers, 
and  our  sleep,  I  hope,  much  better  than  the  tyrants  ever  get,  in 
spite  of  all  their  dungeons  and  gags. 

917.  July  2nd. — Early  in  the  morning,  took  a  look  at  the  manu- 
facturing establishment,  accompanied  by  our  Tavern-keeper. 
I  find  great  attention  is  paid  to  this  branch  of  their  affairs.  Their 
principle  is,  not  to  be  content  with  the  profit  upon  the  manual 
labour  of  raising  the  article,  but  also  to  have  the  benefit  of  the 
machine  in  preparing  it  for  use.  I  agree  with  them  perfectly, 
and  only  wish  the  subject  was  as  well  understood  all  over  the 
United  States  as  it  is  at  Harmony.  It  is  to  their  skill  in  this  way 
that  they  owe  their  great  prosperity  ;  if  they  had  been  nothing  but 
farmers,  they  would  be  now  at  Harmony  in  Pennsylvania,  poor 
cultivators,  getting  a  bare  subsistence,  instead  of  having  doubled 
their  property  two  or  three  times  over,  by  which  they  have  been 
able  to  move  here  and  select  one  of  the  choicest  spots  in  the 
country. 

918.  But,  in  noting  down  the  state  of  this  Society,  as  it  now  is, 
its  origin  should  not  be  forgotten  ;  the  curious  history  of  it  serves 


JOURNAL 

as  an  explanation  to  the  jumble  of  sense  and  absurdity  in  the 
association.  I  will  therefore  trace  the  Harmonist  Society  from 
its  outset  in  Germany  to  this  place. 

919.  The  Sect  had  its  origin  at  Wurtemberg  in  Germany,  about 
40  years  ago,  in  the  person  of  its  present  Pastor  and  Master, 
George  Rapp,  who,  by  his  own  account,  "having  long  seen  and 
"  felt  the  decline  of  the  Church,  found  himself  impelled  to  bear 
"  testimony  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Christian 
"  Religion  ;  and,  finding  no  toleration  for  his  inspired  doctrines, 
"  or  for  those  who  adopted  them,  he  determined  with  his  followers 
"  to  go  to  that  part  of  the  earth  where  they  were  free  to  worship 
"  God  according  to  the  dictates  of  their  conscience."  In  other 
words  (I  suppose),  he  had  long  beheld  and  experienced  the  slavery 
and  misery  of  his  country,  and,  feeling  in  his  conscience  that  he 
was  bom  more  for  a  ruler  than  for  a  slave,  found  himself  im- 
periously called  upon  to  collect  together  a  body  of  his  poor 
countrymen  and  to  lead  them  into  a  land  of  liberty  and  abundance. 
However,  allowing  him  to  have  had  no  other  than  his  professed 
views,  he,  after  he  had  got  a  considerable  number  of  proselytes, 
amounting  to  seven  or  eight  hundred  persons,  among  whom  were 
a  sufficiency  of  good  labourers  and  artizans  in  all  the  essential 
branches  of  workmanship  and  trade,  besides  farmers,  he  embodied 
them  into  a  Society,  and  then  came  himself  to  America  (not 
trusting  to  Providence  to  lead  the  way)  to  seek  out  the  land 
destined  for  these  chosen  children.  Having  done  so,  and  laid 
the  plan  for  his  route  to  the  land  of  peace  and  Christian  love, 
with  a  foresight  which  shows  him  to  have  been  by  no  means 
unmindful  to  the  temporal  prosperity  of  the  Society,  he  then 
landed  his  followers  in  separate  bodies,  and  prudently  led  them 
in  that  order  to  a  resting  place  within  Pennsylvania,  choosing 
rather  to  retard  their  progress  through  the  wilderness  than  to 
hazard  the  discontent  that  might  arise  from  want  and  fatigue  in 
traversing  it  at  once.  When  they  were  all  arrived,  Rapp  con- 
stituted them  into  one  body,  having  every  thing  in  common,  and 
called  the  settlement  Harmony.  This  constitution  he  found 
authorized  by  the  passage  in  Acts,  iv,  32.  "  And  the  multitude 
"  of  them  that  believed  were  of  one  heart,  and  of  one  soul: 
"  neither  said  any  of  them  that  aught  of  the  things  he  possessed 
"  was  his  own,  but  that  they  had  all  things  common"  Being  thus 
associated,  the  Society  went  to  work,  early  in  1805,  building 
houses  and  clearing  lands,  according  to  the  order  and  regulations 
of  their  leader  ;  but,  the  community  of  stock,  or  the  regular 
discipline,  or  the  restraints  which  he  had  reduced  them  to,  and 
which  were  essential  to  his  project,  soon  began  to  thin  his  followers, 
and  principally,  too,  those  of  them  who  had  brought  most  sub- 
stance into  the  society  ;  they  demanded  back  their  original 
portions  and  set  out  to  seek  the  Lord  by  themselves.  This  falling 
off  of  the  society,  though  it  was  but  small,  comparatively,  in  point 
of  numbers,  was  a  great  reduction  from  their  means  ;   they  had 

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JOURNAL 

calculated  what  they  should  want  to  consume,  and  had  laid  the 
rest  out  in  land  ;  so  that  the  remaining  part  were  subjected  to 
great  hardships  and  difficulties  for  the  first  year  or  two  of  their 
settling,  which  was  during  the  time  of  their  greatest  labours. 
However,  it  was  not  long  before  they  began  to  reap  the  fruits  of 
their  toil,  and  in  the  space  of  six  or  seven  years  their  settlement 
became  a  most  flourishing  colony.  During  that  short  space  of 
time  they  brought  into  cultivation  3,000  acres  of  land  (a  third  of 
their  whole  estate),  reared  a  flock  of  nearly  2,000  sheep,  and 
planted  hop-gardens,  orchards,  and  vineyards  ;  built  barns  and 
stables  to  house  their  crops  and  their  live  stock,  granaries  to  keep 
one  year's  produce  of  grain  always  in  advance,  houses  to  make 
their  cyder,  beer,  and  wine  in,  and  good  brick  or  stone  ware- 
houses for  their  several  species  of  goods  ;  constructed  distilleries, 
mills  for  grinding,  sawing,  making  oil,  and,  indeed,  for  every 
purpose,  and  machines  for  manufacturing  their  various  materials 
for  clothing  and  other  uses  ;  they  had,  besides,  a  store  for  retailing 
Philadelphia  goods  to  the  country,  and  nearly  100  good  dwelling- 
houses  of  wood,  a  large  stone-built  tavern,  and,  as  a  proof  of 
superabundance,  a  dwelling-house  and  a  meeting-house  (alias 
the  parsonage  and  church)  which  they  had  neatly  built  of  brick. 
And,  besides  all  these  improvements  within  the  society,  they  did 
a  great  deal  of  business,  principally  in  the  way  of  manufacturing, 
for  the  people  of  the  country.  They  worked  for  them  with  their 
mills  and  machines,  some  of  which  did  nothing  else,  and  their 
blacksmiths,  tailors,  shoe-makers,  &c,  when  not  employed  by 
themselves,  were  constantly  at  work  for  their  neighbours.  Thus 
this  everlastingly-at-work  band  of  emigrants  increased  their  stock 
before  they  quitted  their  first  colony,  to  upwards  of  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  from,  probably,  not  one  fifth  of  that  sum. 
What  will  not  unceasing  perseverance  accomplish  ?  But,  with 
judgment  and  order  to  direct  it,  what  in  the  world  can  stand 
against  it  !* 

920.  In  comparing  the  state  of  this  society  as  it  now  is  with 
what  it  was  in  Pennsylvania  it  is  just  the  same  as  to  plan  :  the 
temporal  and  spiritual  affairs  are  managed  in  the  same  way  and 
upon  the  same  principles,  only  both  are  more  flourishing.  Rapp 
has  here  brought  his  disciples  into  richer  land,  and  into  a  situation 
better  in  every  respect,  both  for  carrying  on  their  trade,  and  for 
keeping  to  their  faith  ;  their  vast  extent  of  land  is,  they  say,  four 
feet  deep  of  rich  mould,  nearly  the  whole  of  it,  and  it  lies  along  the 
banks  of  a  fine  navigable  river  on  one  side,  while  the  possibility 
of  much  interruption  from  other  classes  of  Christians  is  effectually 
guarded  against  by  an  endless  barricado  of  woods  on  the  other 
side.  Bringing  the  means  and  experience  acquired  at  their  first 
establishment,  they  have  of  course  gone  on  improving  and  in- 
creasing (not  in  population)  at  a  much  greater  rate.     One  of  their 

*  A  more  detailed  account  of  this  society,  up  to  the  year  1811, 
will  be  found  in  Mr.  Mellish's  Travels,  vol.  2. 

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greatest  improvements,  they  tell  me,  is  the  working  of  their  mills 
and  manufacturing  machines  by  steam  ;  they  feel  the  advantage 
of  this  more  and  more  every  year.  They  are  now  preparing  to 
build  a  steam-boat  ;  this  is  to  be  employed  in  their  traffick  with 
New  Orleans,  carrying  their  own  surplus  produce  and  returning 
with  tea,  coffee,  and  other  commodities  for  their  own  consumption, 
and  to  retail  to  the  people  of  the  country.  I  believe  they  advance, 
too,  in  the  way  of  ornaments  and  superfluities,  for  the  dwelling- 
house  they  have  now  built  their  pastor,  more  resembles  a  Bishop's 
Palace  than  what  I  should  figure  to  myself  as  the  humble  abode 
of  a  teacher  of  the  "  fundamental  principles  of  the  Christian 
"  Religion." 

921 .  The  government  of  this  society  is  by  bands,  each  consisting 
of  a  distinct  trade  or  calling.  They  have  a  foreman  to  each  band, 
who  rules  it  under  the  general  direction  of  the  society,  the  law- 
giving power  of  which  is  in  the  High  Priest.  He  cannot,  however 
make  laws  without  the  consent  of  the  parties.  The  manufacturing 
establishment,  and  the  mercantile  affairs  and  public  accounts  are 
all  managed  by  one  person  ;  he,  I  believe,  is  one  of  the  sons  of 
Rapp.  They  have  a  bank,  where  a  separate  account  is  kept  for 
each  person  ;  if  any  one  puts  in  money,  or  has  put  in  money,  he 
may,  on  certain  conditions  as  to  time,  take  it  out  again.  They 
labour  and  possess  in  common  ;  that  is  to  say,  except  where  it 
is  not  practicable  or  is  immaterial,  as  with  their  houses,  gardens, 
cov^s  and  poultry,  which  they  have  to  themselves,  each  family. 
They  also  retain  what  property  each  may  bring  on  joining  the 
concern,  and  he  may  demand  it  in  case  of  leaving  the  society,  but 
without  interest. 

922.  Here  is  certainly  a  wonderful  example  of  the  effects  of  skill, 
industry,  and  force  combined  :  this  congregation  of  far-seeing, 
ingenious,  crafty,  and  bold,  and  of  ignorant,  simple,  superstitious, 
and  obedient,  Germans,  has  shown  what  may  be  done.  But, 
their  example,  I  believe,  will  generally  only  tend  to  confirm  this 
free  people  in  their  suspicion  that  labour  is  concomitant  to  slavery 
or  ignorance.  Instead  of  their  improvements,  and  their  success 
and  prosperity  altogether,  producing  admiration,  if  not  envy, 
they  have  a  social  discipline,  the  thought  of  which  reduces  these 
feelings  to  ridicule  and  contempt  :  that  is  to  sa}r,  with  regard  to 
the  mass  :  with  respect  to  their  leaders,  one's  feelings  are  apt  to  be 
stronger.  A  fundamental  of  their  religious  creed  ("  restraining 
clause,"  a  Chancery  Lawyer  would  call  it)  requires  restrictions 
on  the  propagation  of  the  species  ;  it  orders  such  regulations  as 
are  necessary  to  prevent  children  coming  but  once  in  a  certain 
number  of  years  ;  and  this  matter  is  so  arranged  that,  when  they 
come,  they  come  in  little  flocks,  all  within  the  same  month, 
perhaps,  like  a  farmer's  lambs.  The  Law-giver  here  made  a 
famously  "  restraining  statute  "  upon  the  law  of  nature  !  This 
way  of  expounding  law  seems  to  be  a  main  point  of  his  policy  ; 
he  by  this  means  keeps  his  associates  from  increasing  to  an  unruly 

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JOURNAL 

number  within,  while  more  are  sure  not  to  come  in  from  with- 
out ;  and,  I  really  am  afraid  he  will  go  a  good  way  towards  securing 
a  monopoly  of  many  great  improvements  in  agriculture,  both  as  to 
principle  and  method.  People  see  the  fine  fields  of  the  Har- 
monites,  but,  the  prospect  comes  damped  with  the  idea  of  bondage 
and  celibacy.  It  is  a  curious  society  :  was  ever  one  heard  of 
before  that  did  not  wish  to  increase  !  This  smells  strong  of 
policy  ;  some  distinct  view  in  the  leaders,  no  doubt.  Who 
would  be  surprized  if  we  were  to  see  a  still  more  curious  society 
by  and  bye  ?  A  Society  Sole  !  very  far  from  improbable,  if  the 
sons  of  Rapp  (for  he  has  children,  nevertheless,  as  well  as  Parson 
Malthus)  and  the  Elders  were  to  die,  it  not  being  likely  that  they 
will  renounce  or  forfeit  their  right  to  the  common  stock.  We 
should  then  have  societies  as  well  as  corporations  vested  in  one 
person  !  That  would  be  quite  a  novel  kind  of  benefice  !  but;  not 
the  less  fat.  I  question  whether  the  associated  person  of  Mr. 
Rapp  would  not  be  in  possession  of  as  fine  a  domain  and  as  many 
good  things  as  the  incorporated  person  of  an  Archbishop  :  nay, 
he  would  rival  the  Pope  1     But,  to  my  journal. 

923 .  Arrive  at  Princeton  in  the  evening  ;  a  good  part  of  our  road 
lay  over  the  fine  lands  of  the  Harmonites.  I  understand,  by  the 
bye,  that  the  title  deeds  to  these  lands  are  taken  in  the  name  of 
Rapp  and  of  his  associates.  Poor  associates  :  if  they  do  but  rebel  ! 
Find  the  same  store-keepers  and  tavern  keepers  in  the  same 
attitudes  that  we  left  them  in  the  other  day.  Their  legs  only  a 
little  higher  than  their  heads,  and  segars  in  their  mouths  ;  a  fine 
position  for  business  !  It  puts  my  friend  in  mind  of  the  Roman 
posture  in  dining. 

924.  July  T>rd. — At  Princeton  all  day.  This  is  a  pretty  con- 
siderable place  ;  very  good  as  to  buildings  ;  but,  is  too  much 
inland  to  be  a  town  of  any  consequence  until  the  inhabitants  do 
that  at  home  which  they  employ  merchants  and  foreign  manu- 
facturers to  do  for  them.  Pay  1  dollar  for  a  set  of  old  shoes  to 
my  horse,  half  the  price  of  new  ones. 

925.  July  4th. — Leave  Princeton  ;  in  the  evening,  reach  a  place 
very  appropriately  called  Mud-holes,  after  riding  46  miles  over 
lands  in  general  very  good  but  very  little  cultivated,  and  that 
little  very  badly  ;  the  latter  part  of  the  journey  in  company  with 
a  Mr.  Jones  from  Kentucky.  Nature  is  the  agriculturist  here  ; 
speculation,  instead  of  cultivation,  is  the  order  of  the  day  amongst 
men.  We  feel  the  ill  effects  of  this  in  the  difficulty  of  getting 
oats  for  our  horses.  However,  the  evil  is  unavoidable,  if  it  really 
can  be  called  an  evil.  As  well  might  I  grumble  that  farmers  have 
not  taken  possession  as  complain  that  men  of  capital  have.  Labour 
is  the  thing  wanted,  but,  to  have  that,  money  must  come  first. 
This  Mud-holes  was  a  sort  of  fort,  not  4  years  ago,  for  guarding 
against  the  Indians,  who  then  committed  great  depredations, 
killing  whole  families  often,  men,  women  and  children.     How 


JOURNAL 

changeable  are  the  affairs  of  this  world  !  I  have  not  met  with  a 
single  Indian  in  the  whole  course  of  my  route. 

926.  July  5th. — Come  to  Judge  Chambers's,  a  good  tavern  ; 
35  miles.  On  our  way,  pass  French  Lick,  a  strong  spring  of 
water  impregnated  with  salt  and  sulphur,  and  called  I.ick  from  its 
being  resorted  to  by  cattle  for  the  salt  ;  close  by  this  spring  is 
another  still  larger,  of  fine  clear  lime-stone  water,  running  fast 
enough  to  turn  a  mill.  Some  of  the  trees  near  the  Judge's  exhibit 
a  curious  spectacle  ;  a  large  piece  of  wood  appears  totally  dead, 
all  the  leaves  brown  and  the  branches  broken,  from  being  roosted 
upon  lately  by  an  enormous  multitude  of  pigeons.  A  novel  sight 
for  us,  unaccustomed  to  the  abundance  of  the  back- woods  ! 
No  tavern  but  this,  nor  house  of  any  description,  within  many 
miles. 

927.  July  6th. — Leave  the  Judge's,  still  in  company  with  Mr. 
Jones.     Ride  25  miles  to  breakfast,  not  sooner  finding  feed  for  our 

horses  ;    this  was  at  the  dirty  log-house  of  Mr.  who 

has  a  large  farm  with  a  grist-mill  on  it,  and  keeps  his  yard  and 
stables  ancle  deep  in  mud  and  water.  If  this  were  not  one  of  the 
healthiest  climates  in  the  world,  he  and  his  family  must  have  died 
in  all  this  filth.  About  13  miles  further,  come  to  New  Albany, 
where  we  stop  at  Mr.  Jenkins's,  the  best  tavern  we  have  found  in 
Indiana,  that  at  Harmony  excepted. 

928.  July  yth. — Resting  at  New  Albany,  We  were  amused  by 
hearing  a  Quaker-lady  preach  to  the  natives.  Her  first  words 
were  "  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  are  of  one  blood."  "  So,"  said 
I  to  myself,  "  this  question,  which  has  so  long  perplexed  philo- 
"  sophers,  divines  and  physicians,  is  now  set  at  rest !  "  She 
proceeded  to  vent  her  rage  with  great  vehemence  against  hireling 
priests  and  the  trade  of  preaching  in  general,  and  closed  with 
dealing  out  large  portions  of  brimstone  to  the  drunkard  and  still 
larger  and  hotter  to  those  who  give  the  bottle  to  drink.  This 
part  of  her  discourse  pleased  me  very  much,  and  may  be  a  saving 
to  me  into  the  bargain  ;  for,  the  dread  of  everlasting  roasting 
added  to  my  love  of  economy  will  (I  think)  prevent  me  making 
my  friends  tipsy.     A  very  efficacious  sermon  ! 

92g.  July  8th. — Jenkins's  is  a  good  tavern,  but  it  entertains  at  a 
high  price.  Our  bill  was  6  dollars  each  for  a  day  and  two  nights  ; 
a  shameful  charge.  Leave  New  Albany,  cross  the  Ohio,  and  pass 
through  Louisville  in  Kentucky  again,  on  our  way  to  Lexington, 
the  capital.  Stop  for  the  night  at  Mr.  Netherton's,  a  good 
tavern.  The  land  hitherto  is  good,  and  the  country  altogether 
healthy,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  people,  who  appear  more  cheerful 
and  happy  than  in  Indiana,  always  excepting  Harmony.  Our 
landlord  is  the  picture  of  health  and  strength  :  6  feet  4  inches 
high,  weighs  300  lbs.,  and  not  fat. 

930.  July  gth. — Dine  at  Mr.  Overton's  tavern,  on  our  way  to 
Frankfort ;  pay  half  a  dollar  each  for  an  excellent  dinner,  with  as 

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JOURNAL 


much  brandy  and  butter-milk  as  we  chose  to  drink,  and  good  feed 
for  our  horses.  In  the  afternoon  we  have  the  pleasure  to  be  over- 
taken by  two  ladies  on  horse-back,  and  have  their  agreeable 
company  for  a  mile  or  two.  On  their  turning  off  from  our  road 
we  were  very  reluctantly  obliged  to  refuse  an  obliging  invitation 
to  drink  tea  at  their  house,  and  myself  the  more  so,  as  one  of  the 
ladies  informed  me  she  had  married  a  Mr.  Constantine,  a  gentle- 
man from  my  own  native  town  of  Bolton,  in  Lancashire.  But, 
we  had  yet  so  far  to  go,  and  it  was  getting  dark.  This  most 
healthful  mode  of  travelling  is  universal  in  the  Western  States, 
and  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  see  it  ;  though,  perhaps,  I  have 
to  thank  the  badness  of  the  roads  as  the  cause.  Arrive  at  Frank- 
fort, apparently  a  thriving  town,  on  the  side  of  the  rough  Ken- 
tucky river.  The  houses  are  built  chiefly  of  brick,  and  the  streets, 
I  understand,  paved  with  limestone.  Limestone  abounds  in  this 
state,  and  yet  the  roads  are  not  good,  though  better  than  in 
Indiana  and  Ohio,  for,  there,  there  are  none.  I  wonder  the 
governments  of  these  states  do  not  set  about  making  good  roads 
and  bridges,  and  even  canals.  I  pledge  myself  to  be  able  to  shew 
them  how  the  money  might  be  raised,  and,  moreover,  to  prove 
that  the  expence  would  be  paid  over  and  over  again  in  almost  no 
time.  Such  improvements  would  be  income  to  the  governments 
instead  of  expence,  besides  being  such  an  incalculable  benefit  to 
the  states.  But,  at  any  rate,  why  not  roads,  and  in  this  state,  too, 
which  is  so  remarkable  for  its  quality  of  having  good  road  materials 
and  rich  land  together,  generally,  all  over  it  ? 

Q31.  July  10th. — Leave  Frankfort,  and  come  through  a  district 
of  fine  land,  very  well  watered,  to  Lexington  ;  stop  at  Mr.  Keen's 
tavern.  Had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  Mr.  Clay,  who  carried  us 
to  his  house,  about  a  mile  in  the  country.  It  is  a  beautiful  resi- 
dence, situated  near  the  centre  of  a  very  fine  farm,  which  is  just 
cleared  and  is  coming  into  excellent  cultivation.  I  approve  of 
Mr.  Clay's  method  very  much,  especially  in  laying  down  pasture. 
He  clears  away  all  the  brush  or  underwood,  leaving  timber  enough 
to  afford  a  sufficiency  of  shade  to  the  grass,  which  does  not  thrive 
here  exposed  to  the  sun,  as  in  England  and  other  such  climates. 
By  this  means  he  has  as  fine  grass  and  clover  as  can  possibly  grow. 
I  could  not  but  admire  to  see  this  gentleman  ;  possessing  so  much 
knowledge  and  of  so  much  weight  in  his  country's  affairs,  so 
attentively  promoting  her  not  less  important  though  more  silent 
interests  by  improving  her  agriculture.  What  pleased  me  still 
more,  however,  because  I  less  expected  it,  was,  to  hear  Mrs. 
Clay,  in  priding  herself  on  the  state  of  society,  and  the  rising 
prosperity  of  the  country,  citing  as  a  proof  the  decency  and 
affluence  of  the  trades-people  and  mechanics  at  Lexington,  many 
of  whom  ride  about  in  their  own  carriages.  What  a  contrast,, 
both  in  sense  and  in  sentiment,  between  this  lady  and  the  wives 
of  Legislators  (as  they  are  called),  in  the  land  of  the  Borough- 
mongers  !     God  grant  that  no  privileged  batch  ever  rise  up  in 

Q  221 


JOURNAL 

America,  for  then  down  come  the  mechanics,  are  harnessed  them- 
selves, and  half  ridden  to  death. 

932.  July  nth. — This  is  the  hottest  day  we  have  had  yet. 
Thermometer  at  90  degrees,  in  shade.  Met  a  Mr.  Whittemore, 
from  Boston,  loud  in  the  praise  of  this  climate.  He  informed  me 
he  had  lately  lost  his  wife  and  five  children  near  Boston,  arid  that 
he  should  have  lost  his  only  remaining  child,  too,  a  son  now  stout 
and  healthy,  had  he  not  resolved  instantly  to  try  the  air  of  the  west. 
He  is  confident  that  if  he  had  taken  this  step  in  time  he  might  have 
saved  the  lives  of  all  his  family.  This  might  be,  however,  and 
yet  this  climate  not  better  than  that  of  Boston.  Spent  the  evening 
with  Colonel  Morrison,  one  of  the  first  settlers  in  this  state  ;  a 
fine  looking  old  gentleman,  with  colour  in  his  face  equal  to  a 
London  Alderman.  The  people  here  are  pretty  generally  like 
that  portion  of  the  people  of  England  who  get  porridge  enough 
to  eat  ;  stout,  fat,  and  ruddy. 

933.  July  izih. — Hotter  than  yesterday  ;  thermometer  at  91 
degrees. 

934.  July  i^th. — Leave  Lexington  ;  stop  at  Paris,  22  miles. 
A  fine  country  all  the  way  ;  good  soil,  plenty  of  limestone  and  no 
musquitoes.  Paris  is  a  healthy  town,  with  a  good  deal  of  stir  ; 
woollen  and  cotton  manufactures  are  carried  on  here,  but  upon  a 
small  scale.  They  are  not  near  enough  to  good  coal  mines  to  do 
much  in  that  way.  What  they  do,  however,  is  well  paid  for.  A 
spinner  told  me  he  gets  83  cents  per  lb.  for  his  twist,  which  is  33 
cents  more  than  it  would  fetch  at  New  York.  Stop  at  Mr. 
Timberlake's,  a  good  house.  The  bar-keeper,  who  comes  from 
England  tells  me  that  he  sailed  to  Canada,  but  he  is  glad  he  had 
the  means  to  leave  Canada  and  come  to  Kentucky  ;  he  has  300 
dollars  a  year,  and  board  and  lodging.  Made  enquiry  after  young 
Watson,  but  find  he  has  left  this  place  and  is  gone  to  Lexington. 

935.  The  following  is  a  list  of  the  wages  and  prices  of  the  most 
essential  branches  of  workmanship  and  articles  of  consumption, 
as  they  are  here  at  present. 


Journeymen  saddlers'  price  for 
drawing  on  men's  saddles 

Journeymen  blacksmiths,  per  day 
per  month 

Journey  men  hatters  (casters) 

Ditto,  rorum     .... 

Ditto  for  finishing,  per  month 
and  found     .... 

Journeymen  shoe-makers  (coarse) 


Dolls. 

Cents. 

Dolls. 

*i 

25  to 

2 

1 

.   - 

1 

25 

•   ~ 

30 

1 

.    2S 

1 

30 

75 

Cents. 

50 

25 


*  Or,  5s.  7Jd.  to  lis.  3d.  sterling.  At  trie  present  rate  of  ex- 
change, a  dollar  is  equivalent  to  4s.  6d.  sterling,  and  a  cent  is 
the  hundredth  part  of  a  dollar. 

222 


JOURNAL 


Dolls. 

Cents. 

Dolls. 

Cents 

i 

25 

3 

25 

5 

i 

.  to 

1 

50 

i 

200 

500 

6 

1 

6 

Journeymen  shoe-makers  {fine)  . 
Ditto,  for  boots 

Journeymen  tailors,  by  the  coat 
Stone-masons  or  bricklayers,  per 
day  ..... 
Carpenters,  per  day,  and  found 
Salary  for  a  clerk,  per  annum 
Beef,  per  100  lbs. 
Flour,  per  barrel 

936.  July  14th. — Hot  again  ;  90  degrees.  Arrive  at  Blue  Licks, 
close  by  the  fine  Licking  Creek,  22  miles  from  Paris.  Here  is  a 
sulphur  and  salt  spring  like  that  at  French  Lick  in  Indiana,  which 
makes  this  a  place  of  great  resort  in  summer  for  the  fashionable 
swallowers  of  mineral  waters  ;  the  three  or  four  taverns  are  at  this 
time  completely  crowded.  Salt  was  made  till  latterly  at  this 
spring,  by  an  old  Scotsman  ;  he  now  attends  the  ferry  across  the 
Creek.  Not  much  to  be  said  for  the  country  round  here  ;  it  is 
stony  and  barren,  what  I  have  not  seen  before  in  Kentucky. 

937.  July  15th. — To  Maysville,  or  Limestone,  24  miles.  This 
is  a  place  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  and  is  a  sort  of  port  for  shipping 
down  the  river  to  a  great  part  of  that  district  of  the  state  for  which 
Louisville  is  the  shipping  port  to  and  from  New  Orleans.  Still 
hot  ;  90  degrees  again.  This  is  the  fifth  day  ;  rather  unusual, 
this  continuance  of  heat.  The  hot  spells  as  well  as  the  cold  spells, 
seldom  last  more  than  three  days,  pretty  generally  in  America. 

g28.  July  1 6th. — Hot  still,  but  a  fine  breeze  blowing  up  the  river. 
Not  a  bit  too  hot  for  me,  but  the  natives  say  it  is  the  hottest  weather 
they  recollect  in  this  country  ;  a  proof  to  me  that  this  is  a  mild 
climate,  as  to  heat,  at  any  rate.  Saw  a  cat-fish  in  the  market, 
just  caught  out  of  the  river  by  a  hook  and  line,  4  feet  long  and 
eighty  pounds  weight,  offered  for  2  dollars.  Price  of  flour,  6 
dollars  a  barrel  ;  fresh  beef,  6i  cents,  and  butter  20  cents  per  lb. 

939' July  17th. — Set  out  again,  crossing  the  Ohio  into  the  state 
of  that  name,  and  take  the  road  to  Chillicothe,  74  miles  from 
Maysville.  Stop  about  mid-way  for  the  night,  travelling  over  a 
country  generally  hilly,  and  not  of  good  soil,  and  passing  through 
West  Union,  a  place  situated  as  a  town  ought  to  be,  upon  high  and 
unlevel  lands  ;  the  inhabitants  have  fine  air  to  breathe,  and  plenty 
of  food  to  eat  and  drink,  and,  if  they  keep  their  houses  and  streets 
and  themselves  clean,  I  will  ensure  them  long  lives.  Some  pretty 
good  farms  in  view  of  the  road,  but  many  abandoned  for  the  richer 
lands  of  Indiana  and  Illinois.  Travelling  expences  much  less, 
hitherto,  than  in  Indiana  and  some  parts  of  Kentucky  ;  we  had 
plenty  of  good  butter-milk  at  the  farm  houses  all  along  the  road, 
free  of  expence,  and  the  tavern-keepers  do  not  set  before  us  bread 
made  of  Indian  corn,  which  we  have  not  yet  learned  to  like  very 
cordially. 

223 


JOURNAL 


940.  July  iSth. — Come  to  Chillicothe,  the  country  improving 
and  more  even  as  we  proceed.  See  some  very  rich  lands  on 
passing  Paint  Creek,  and  on  approaching  the  Scioto  river  ;  these, 
like  all  the  bottom  lands,  having  a  coat  of  sediment  from  their 
river  in  addition  to  the  original  soil,  are  by  far  the  richest.  Chilli- 
cothe is  a  handsome  town,  regularly  laid  out,  but,  stands  upon  a 
flat.  I  hate  the  very  sight  of  a  level  street,  unless  there  be  every 
thing  necessary  to  carry  off  all  filth  and  water.  The  air  is  very 
fine,  so  far  as  it  is  not  contaminated  by  the  pools  of  water  which 
stand  about  the  town  as  green  as  grass.  Main  sewers,  like  those 
at  Philadelphia,  are  much  wanted. 

941.  July  19th. — Called  upon  Mr.  Bond,  being  introduced  by 
letter,  and  spent  a  very  pleasant  evening  with  him  and  a  large 
party  of  his  agreeable  friends.  Left  them,  much  pleased  with  the 
society  of  Chillicothe. 

94.2.  July  20th. — We  were  introduced  to  Governor  Worthington, 
who  lives  about  2  miles  from  the  town.  He  took  us  to  his  house, 
and  showed  us  part  of  his  fine  estate,  which  is  800  acres  in  extent, 
and  all  of  it  elevated  table  land,  commanding  an  immense  view 
over  the  flat  country  in  the  direction  of  Lake  Erie.  The  soil  is 
very  rich  indeed  ;  so  rich,  that  the  Governor  pointed  out  a  dung 
heap  which  was  bigger  than  the  barn  it  surrounded  and  had 
grown  out  of,  as  a  nuisance.  The  labour  of  dragging  the  dung 
out  of  the  way,  would  be  more  than  the  cost  of  removing  the 
barn,  so  that  he  is  actually  going  to  pull  the  barn  down,  and  build 
it  up  again  in  another  place.  This  is  not  a  peculiarity  of  this 
particular  spot  of  land,  for  manure  has  no  value  here  at  all.  All 
the  stable-dung  made  at  Chillicothe  is  flung  into  the  river.  I  dare 
say,  that  the  Inn  we  put  up  at  does  not  tumble  into  the  water  less 
than  300  good  loads  of  horse-dung  every  year. 

943.  I  had  some  conversation  with  Governor  Worthington  on 
the  subject  of  domestic  manufactures,  and  was  glad  to  find  he  is 
well  convinced  of  the  necessity  of,  or  at  least  of  the  great  benefit 
that  would  result  from,  the  general  establishment  of  them  in  the 
United  States.  He  has  frequently  recommended  it  in  his  public 
capacity,  he  informed  me,  and  I  hope  he  will  advocate  it  with 
effect.  He  is  a  true  lover  of  his  country,  and  no  man  that  I  have 
met  with  has  a  more  thorough  knowledge  of  the  detestable  villainy 
of  the  odious  Boroughmongering  government  of  England,  and, 
of  course,  it  has  his  full  share  of  hatred. 

944.  July  21  st. — Leave  Chillicothe.  A  fine,  healthy  country 
and  very  rich  land  all  the  way  to  New  Lancaster,  34  miles  from 
Chillicothe,  and  38  from  Zanesbille.  Stop  at  the  house  of  a 
German,  where  we  slept,  but  not  in  bed,  preferring  a  soft  board 
and  something  clean  for  a  pillow  to  a  bed  of  down  accompanied 
with  bugs. 

945.  Nothing  remarkable,  that  I  can  see,  as  to  the  locality  of 
this  town  of  New  Lancaster  :  but,  the  name,  alas  !  it  brought  to 
my  recollection  the  horrid  deeds  done  at   Old  Lancaster,  the 

224 


JOURNAL 

county  town  of  my  native  county  !     I  thought  of  Colonel  F r, 

and  his  conduct  towards  my  poor,  unfortunate  townsman, 
Gallant  !  I  thought  of  the  poor,  miserable  creatures,  men, 
women,  and  children,  who,  in  the  bloody  year  of  1812,  were  first 
instigated  by  spies  to  commit  arson,  and  then  pursued  into  death 
by  the  dealers  in  human  blood.  Amongst  the  sufferers,  upon 
this  particular  occasion,  there  was  a  boy,  who  was  silly,  and  who 
would,  at  any  time,  have  jumped  into  a  pit  for  a  half-penny  : 
he  was  not  fourteen  years  old  ;  and  when  he  was  about  to  be 
hanged,  actually  called  out  for  his  "  mammy  "  to  come  and  save 
him  !  Who,  that  has  a  heart  in  his  bosom,  can  help  feeling 
indignation  against  the  cruel  monsters  !  Who  can  help  feeling 
a  desire  to  see  their  dreadful  power  destroyed  !  The  day  must 
come,  when  the  whole  of  the  bloody  tragedies  of  Lancashire  will 
be  exposed.  In  the  mean  while,  here  I  am  in  safety  from  the 
fangs  of  the  monsters,  who  oppress  and  grind  my  countrymen. 
The  thought  of  these  oppressions,  however,  I  carry  about  with 
me  ;  and  I  cannot  help  its  sometimes  bursting  forth  into  words. 

946.  July  2.2nd. — Arrive  at  Zanesville,*  a  place  finely  situated 
for  manufactures,  in  a  nook  of  the  Muskingham,  just  opposite 
to  the  mouth  of  Licking  Creek.  It  has  almost  every  advantage 
for  manufacturing  of  all  sorts,  both  as  to  local  situation  and  as  to 
materials  ;  it  excels  Wheeling  and  Steubenville,  in  many  respects, 
and,  in  some,  even  Pittsburgh.  The  river  gives  very  fine  falls 
near  the  town,  one  of  them  of  12  feet,  where  it  is  600  feet  wide  ; 
the  creek,  too,  falls  in  by  a  fine  cascade.  What  a  power  for 
machinery  !  I  should  think  that  as  much  effect  might  be  pro- 
duced by  the  power  here  afforded  as  by  the  united  manual  labour 
of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  state.  The  navigation  is  very  good  all 
the  way  up  to  the  town,  and  is  now  continued  round  the  falls  by  a 
canal  with  locks,  so  that  boats  can  go  nearly  close  up  to  Lake 
Erie.  The  bowels  of  the  earth  afford  coal,  iron  ore,  stone,  free- 
stone, lime-stone,  and  clays  ;  all  of  the  best,  I  believe,  and  the 
last,  the  very  best  yet  discovered  in  this  country,  and,  perhaps, 
as  good  as  is  to  be  found  in  any  country.  All  these  materials  are 
found  in  inexhaustible  quantities  in  the  hills  and  little  ridges  on 
the  sides  of  the  river  and  creek,  arranged  as  if  placed  by  the  hand 
of  man  for  his  own  use.  In  short,  this  place  has  the  four  elements 
in  the  greatest  perfection  that  I  have  any  where  yet  seen  in 
America.  As  to  manufactures,  it  is,  like  Wheeling  and  Steu- 
benville, nothing  in  comparison  to  Pittsburgh. 

947.  Nature  has  done  her  part  ;  nothing  is  left  wanting  but 
machines  to  enable  the  people  of  Ohio  to  keep  their  flour  at  home, 
instead  of  exporting  it,  at  their  own  expence,  to  support  those 
abroad  who  are  industrious  enough  to  send  them  back  coats, 
knives,  and  cups  and  saucers. 

*  For  a  more  particular  account  of  this  place,  as  well,  indeed, 
as  of  most  of  the  other  towns  I  have  visited,  see  Mr.  Mellish's 
Travels,  vol.  ii. 

225 


JOURNAL 

948.  July  23rd. — All  day  at  Zanesville.  Spent  part  of  it  very 
agreeably  with  Mr.  Adams  the  post-master,  and  old  Mr.  Dillon 
who  has  a  large  iron  foundery  near  this. 

949.  July  24th. — Go  with  Mr.  Dillon  about  3  miles  up  the  Creek, 
to  see  his  mills  and  iron-factory  establishment.  He  has  here  a 
very  fine  water-fall,  of  18  feet,  giving  immense  power,  by  which 
he  works  a  large  iron-forge  and  foundery,  and  mills  for  sawing, 
grinding,  and  other  purposes. 

950.  I  will  here  subjoin  a  list  of  the  prices  at  Zanesville,  of 
provisions,  stock,  stores,  labour,  &c.,  just  as  I  have  it  from  a 
resident,  whom  I  can  rely  upon. 


Flour  (superfine),  per  barrel  of 

196  lbs.  from 
Beef,  per  100  lbs. 
Pork  (prime),  per  100  lbs. 
Salt,  per  bushel  of  50  lbs. 
Potatoes,  per  bushel 
Turnips,  ditto 
Wheat,  do .  of  60  lbs .  to  66  lbs 
Indian  Corn,  ditto,  shelled 
Oats,  ditto 
Rye,  ditto 
Barley,  ditto     . 
Turkeys,  of  from  12  lbs.  to  20 

lbs.  each 
Fowls 
Live   Hogs,    per    100   lbs.,    live 

weight 
Cows  (the  best) 
Yoke  of  Oxen,  ditto 
Sheep 

Hay,  per  ton,  delivered 
Straw,  fetch  it  and  have  it 
Manure,  ditto,  ditto. 
Coals,  per  bushel,  delivered 
Butter,  per  lb.  avoirdupois 
Cheese,  ditto,  ditto   . 
Loaf  Sugar 
Raw  ditto 

Domestic  Raw  ditto 
Merino  Wool,  per  lb.  avoirdupois 

washed 
Three-quarter  Merino  ditto 
Common  Wool 
Bricks,  per  1000,  delivered 

226 


Dolls. 

Cents. 

Dolls. 

5 

.  to 

5 

4 

.   - 

4 

4 

50  - 

5 

2 

25 

25  ~ 
20 

75 
33i~ 

25  ~ 

. 

5o 

75 

37i- 

3 

.    - 

5 

18 

.    - 

25 

50 

.    - 

75 

2 

50 

9 

8 

12^- 

I2l*- 

5o" 

31* 

i8f 

10 

1 

75 
50     I 

6 

.  to 

7 

Cents. 

75 
25 

3ii 


50 
33i 


50 

m 


IS  J 

25 


JOURNAL 


Lime,  per  bushel,  ditto 

Sand,  in  abundance  on  the  banks 
of  the  river 

Glass  is  sold  in  boxes,  containing 
ioo  square  feet  ;  of  the 
common  size  there  are  180 
panes  in  a  box,  when  the  price 
is  .... 

The  price  rises  in  proportion 
to  the  size  of  the  panes. 

Oak  planks,  i  inch  thick,  per  ioo 
square  feet,  at  the  saw-miil 

Poplar,  the  same. 

White  Lead,  per  ioo  lbs.  de- 
livered 

Red  ditto 

Litharge 

Pig  Lead 

Swedish  Iron  (the  best,  in  bars) 

Juniatta,  ditto,  ditto 

Mr.  Dillon's  ditto,  ditto 

Castings  at  Mr.  Dillon's  Foun- 
dery,  per  ton 

Ditto,  for  machinery,  ditto, 
per  lb. 

Potash,  per  ton 

Pearl  Ashes,  ditto 

Stone  masons  and  bricklayers, 
per  day,  and  board  and 
lodging  .... 

Plasterers,  by  the  square  yard, 
they  finding  themselves  in 
board  and  lodging  and  in 
lime,  sand,  laths  and  every- 
thing they  use 

Carpenters,  by  the  day,  who  find 
themselves  and  bring  their 
tools  .... 

Blacksmiths,  by  the  month,  and 
found  in  board,  lodging,  and 
tools  .... 

Millwrights,  per  day,  finding 
themselves    .... 

Tailors,  per  week,  finding  them- 
selves and  working  14  or  15 
hours  a  day 

Shoemakers,  the  same. 

227 


Dolls. 

Cents. 
18J 

Dolls. 

14 

• 

1 

50 

17 
17 
15 
9 
14 

14 
12 

50 
50 

120 

j 

180 

;  s 

200 

1 

50 

i8| 

1 

25 

30 

.  to 

40 

1 

50  - 

2 

7 

9 

i 

JOURNAL 


Glazier's  charge  for  putting  in 
each  pane  of  glass  8  in.  by 
10  in.  with  their  own  putty 
and  laying  on  the  first  coat  of 
paint   ..... 

Labourers,  per  annum,  and 
found  .... 

The  charge  of  carriage  for  ioo 
lbs.  weight  from  Baltimore  to 
Zanesville     .... 

Ditto  for  ditto  by  steam-boat 
from  New  Orleans  to  Shipping 
port,  and  thence  by  boats,  to 
Zanesville,  about 

Peaches,  as  fine  as  can  grow, 
per  bushel 


Dolls. 

Cents. 

Dolls. 

. 

4  to 

ioo 

.  - 

120 

IO 

• 

6 

5o 

, 

I2|— 

, 

25 


Apples   and   Pears   proportionately  cheaper  ;    sometimes   given 
away,  in  the  country. 

951.  Prices  are  much  about  the  same  at  Steubenville  ;  if  any 
difference,  rather  lower.  If  bought  in  a  quantity,  some  of  the 
articles  enumerated  might  be  had  a  good  deal  lower.  Labour, 
no  doubt,  if  a  job  of  some  length  were  offered,  might  be  got 
somewhat  cheaper,  here. 

952.  July  25th. — Leave  Zanesville  for  Pittsburgh,  keeping  to  the 
United  States  road  ;  stop  at  Cambridge,  25  miles.  During  the 
first  eight  miles  we  met  10  waggons,  loaded  with  emigrants. 

953.  July  2.6th. — Stop  at  Mr.  Broadshaw's,  a  very  good  house 
on  the  road,  25  miles  from  Cambridge.  This  general  govern- 
ment road  is  by  no  means  well  laid  out  ;  it  goes  straight  over 
the  tops  of  the  numerous  little  hills,  up  and  down,  up  and  down. 
It  would  have  been  a  great  deal  nearer  in  point  of  time,  if  not  in 
distance  (though  I  think  it  would  that,  too),  if  a  view  had  been 
had  to  the  labour  of  travelling  over  these  everlasting  un- 
evennesses. 

954.  July  27th. — To  Wheeling  in  Virginia,  31  miles.  They 
have  had  tremendous  rains  in  these  parts,  we  hear  as  we  pass 
along,  lately  ;  one  of  the  creeks  we  came  over  has  overflown  so 
as  to  carry  down  a  man's  house  with  himself  and  his  whole  family. 
A  dreadful  catastrophe,  but,  certainly,  one  not  out  of  the  man's 
power  to  have  foreseen  and  prevented  ;  it  surprizes  me  that  the 
people  will  stick  up  their  houses  so  near  the  water's  edge.  Cross 
Wheeling  Creek  several  times  to-day  ;  it  is  a  rapid  stream,  and  I 
hope  it  will  not  be  long  before  it  turns  many  water  wheels.  See 
much  good  land4  and  some  pretty  good  farming. 

955.  July  28th. — Went  with  a  Mr.  Graham,  a  Quaker  of  this 

228 


JOURNAL 

place,  who  treated  us  in  the  most  friendly  and  hospitable  manner, 
to  see  the  new  national  road  from  Washington  city  to  this  town. 
It  is  covered  with  a  very  thick  layer  of  nicely  broken  stones,  or 
stone,  rather,  laid  on  with  great  exactness  both  as  to  depth  and 
width,  and  then  rolled  down  with  an  iron  roller,  which  reduces  all 
to  one  solid  mass.  This  is  a  road  made  for  ever  ;  not  like  the 
flint  roads  in  England,  rough,  nor  soft  or  dirty,  like  the  gravel 
roads  ;  but,  smooth  and  hard.  When  a  road  is  made  in  America 
it  is  well  made.  An  American  always  plots  against  labour,  and., 
in  this  instance,  he  takes  the  most  effectual  course  to  circumvent 
it.  Mr.  Graham  took  us  likewise  to  see  the  fine  coal  mines  near 
this  place  and  the  beds  of  limestone  and  freestone,  none  of  which 
I  had  time  to  examine  as  we  passed  Wheeling  in  our  ark.  All 
these  treasures  lie  very  convenient  to  the  river.  The  coals  are 
principally  in  one  long  ridge,  about  10  feet  wide  ;  much  the  same 
as  they  are  at  Pittsburgh,  in  point  of  quality  and  situation.  They 
cost  3  cents  per  bushel  to  be  got  out  from  the  mine.  This  price, 
as  nearly  as  I  can  calculate,  enables  the  American  collier  to  earn, 
upon  an  average,  double  the  number  of  cents  for  the  same  labour 
that  the  collier  in  England  can  earn  ;  so  that,  as  the  American 
collier  can,  upon  an  average,  buy  his  flour  for  one  third  of  the 
price  that  the  English  collier  pays  for  his  flour,  he  receives  six 
times  the  quantity  of  flour  for  the  same  labour.  Here  is  a  country 
for  the  ingenious  paupers  of  England  to  come  to  !  They  find  food 
and  materials,  and  nothing  wanting  but  their  mouths  and  hands 
to  consume  and  work  them.  I  should  like  to  see  the  old  toast  of 
the  Boroughmongers  brought  out  again  ;  when  they  were  in  the 
height  of  their  impudence  their  myrmidons  used  to  din  in  our 
ears,  "  Old  England  for  ever,  and  those  that  do  not  like  her  let 
"  them  leave  her."  Let  them  renew  this  swaggering  toast,  and 
I  would  very  willingly  for  my  part,  give  another  to  the  same 
effect  for  the  United  States  of  America.  But,  no,  no  !  they 
know  better  now.  They  know  that  they  would  be  taken  at  their 
word  ;  and,  like  the  tyrants  of  Egypt,  having  got  their  slaves  fast, 
will  (if  they  can)  keep  them  so.  Let  them  beware,  lest  something 
worse  than  the  Red  Sea  overwhelm  them  1  Like  Pharaoh  and 
his  Boroughmongers  they  will  not  yield  to  the  voice  of  the  people, 
and,  surely,  something  like,  or  worse  than,  their  fate  shall  befall 
them  ! 

956.  They  are  building  a  steam-boat  at  Wheeling,  which  is  to 
go,  they  say,  i8co  miles  up  the  Missouri  river.  The  wheels  are 
made  to  work  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  so  as  not  to  come  in  contact 
with  the  floating  trees,  snaggs,  planters,*  &c,  obstructions  most 
likely  very  numerous  in  that  river.  But,  the  placing  the  wheels 
behind  only  saves  them  :  it  is  no  protection  against  the  boat's 
sinking  in  case  of  being  pierced  by  a  planter  or  sawyer. f  Observing 
this,  I  will  suggest  a  plan  which  has  occurred  to  me,  and  which, 

*  Trees  tumbled  head-long  and  fixed  in  the  river, 
t  The  same  as  a  planter,   only  waving  up   and  down, 
229 


JOURNAL 

I  think,  would  provide  against  sinking,  effectually  ;  but,  at  any 
rate,  it  is  one  which  can  be  tried  very  easily  and  with  very  little 
expence. — I  would  make  a  partition  of  strong  plank  ;  put  it  in  the 
broadest  fore-part  of  the  boat,  right  across,  and  put  good  iron  bolts 
under  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  through  these  planks,  and  screw 
them  on  the  top  of  the  deck.  Then  put  an  upright  post  in  the 
inside  of  the  boat  against  the  middle  of  the  plank  partition,  and 
put  a  spur  to  the  upright  post.  The  partition  should  be  water- 
tight. I  would  then  load  the  forepart  of"  the  boat,  thus  partitioned 
off,  with  lumber  or  such  loading  as  is  least  liable  to  injury,  and 
best  calculated  to  stop  the  progress  of  a  sawyer  after  it  has  gone 
through  the  boat. — By  thus  appropriating  the  fore-part  of  the 
boat  to  the  reception  of  planters  and  sawyers,  it  appears  to  me 
that  the  other  part  would  be  secured  against  all  intrusion. 

957-  July  zgth. — From  Wheeling,  through  Charlston,  changing 
sides  of  the  river  again  to  Steubenville.  My  eyes  were  delighted 
at  Charlston  to  see  the  smoke  of  the  coals  ascending  from  the 
glass-works  they  have  here.  This  smoke  it  is  that  must  enrich 
America  ;  she  might  save  almost  all  her  dollars  if  she  would  but 
bring  her  invaluable  black  diamonds  into  service.  Talk  of 
independence,  indeed,  without  coats  to  wear  or  knives  or  plates 
to  eat  with  ! 

958.  At  Steubenville,  became  acquainted  with  Messrs.  Wills, 
Ross,  and  company,  who  have  an  excellent  and  well-conducted 
woollen  manufactory  here.  They  make  very  good  cloths,  and  at 
reasonable  prices  ;  I  am  sorry  they  do  not  retail  them  at  Phila- 
delphia ;  I,  for  one,  should  be  customer  to  them  for  all  that  my 
family  wanted  in  the  woollen-way.  Here  are  likewise  a  Cotton- 
mill,  a  Grist-mill,  a  Paper-mill,  an  Iron-foundery  and  Tan-yards 
and  Breweries.  Had  the  pleasure  to  see  Mr.  Wilson,  the  editor 
of  the  Steubenville  Gazette,  a  very  public-spirited  man,  and,  I 
believe,  very  serviceable  to  this  part  of  the  country.  If  the 
policy  he  so  powerfully  advocates  were  adopted,  the  effects  would 
be  grand  for  America  ;  it  would  save  her  dollars  while  it  would 
help  to  draw  the  nails  of  the  vile  Boroughmongers.  But,  he  has 
to  labour  against  the  inveterate  effects  of  the  thing  the  most 
difficult  of  all  others  to  move — habit. 

959.  By  what  I  have  been  able  to  observe  of  this  part  of  the 
country,  those  who  expect  to  find  what  is  generally  understood 
by  society,  pretty  much  the  same  that  they  have  been  accustomed 
to  it  on  the  Atlantic  side,  or  in  England,  will  not  be  totally  dis- 
appointed. It  is  here  upon  the  basis  of  the  same  manners  and 
customs  as  in  the  oldest  settled  districts,  and  it  there  differs  from 
what  it  is  in  England,  and  here  from  what  it  is  there,  only  ac- 
cording to  circumstances.  Few  of  the  social  amusements  that 
are  practicable  at  present,  are  scarce  ;  dancing,  the  most  rational 
for  eveiy  reason,  is  the  most  common  ;  and,  in  an  assemblage  for 
this  purpose,  composed  of  the  farmers'  daughters  and  sons  from 
zo  miles  round,  an  Englishman  (particularly  if  a  young  one) 

230 


JOURNAL 


might  very  well  think  his  travels  to  be  all  a  dream,  and  that  he 
was  still  in  a  Boroughmonger  country.  Almost  always  the  same 
tunes  and  dances,  same  manners,  same  dress.  Ah,  it  is  that  same 
dress  which  is  the  great  evil  1  It  may  be  a  very  pretty  sight,  but, 
to  see  the  dollars  thus  danced  out  of  the  country  into  the  hands  of 
the  Boroughmongers,  to  the  tune  of  national  airs,  is  a  thing  which, 
if  it  do  not  warrant  ridicule,  will,  if  America  do  not,  by  one 
unanimous  voice,  soon  put  a  stop  to  it. 

960.  July  20th. — From  Steubenville,  crossing  the  Ohio  for  the 
last  time,  and  travelling  through  a  slip  of  Virginia  and  a  handsome 
part  of  Pennsylvania,  to  Pittsburgh. 

961.  August  1st. — Sold  my  horse  for  75  dollars,  60  dollars  less 
than  I  gave  for  him.  A  horse  changes  masters  no  where  so  often 
as  in  this  Western  country,  and  no  where  so  often  rises  and  falls 
in  value.  Met  a  Mr.  Gibbs,  a  native  of  Scotland,  and  an  old 
neighbour  of  mine,  having  superintended  some  oil  of  vitriol  works 
near  to  my  bleach- works  on  Great  Lever,  near  Bolton,  in  Lanca- 
shire. He  now  makes  oil  of  vitriol,  aquafortis,  salts,  soap,  &c. 
at  this  place,  and  is,  I  believe,  getting  rich.  Spent  a  pleasant 
evening  with  him. 

962.  August  2nd. — Spent  most  part  of  the  day  with  Mr.  Gibbs, 
and  dined  with  him  ;  as  the  feast  was  his,  I  recommended  him 
to  observe  the  latter  part  of  the  good  Quaker  Lady's  sermon  which 
we  heard  at  New  Albany. 

963.  August  3rd. — Leave  Pittsburgh,  not  without  some  regret 
at  bidding  adieu  to  so  much  activity  and  smoke,  for  I  expect  not 
to  see  it  elsewhere.  I  like  to  contemplate  the  operation  by  which 
the  greatest  effect  is  produced  in  a  country.  Take  the  same 
route  and  the  same  stage  as  on  setting  out  from  Philadelphia. 

964.  August  4th,  5th,  and  6th. — These  three  days  traversing 
the  romantic  Allegany  Mountains  ;  got  overturned  (a  common 
accident  here)  only  once,  and  then  received  very  little  damage  : 
myself  none,  some  of  my  fellow  travellers  a  few  scratches.  We 
scrambled  out,  and,  with  the  help  of  some  waggoners,  set  the 
vehicle  on  its  wheels  again,  adjusted  our  "  plunder  "  (as  some  of 
the  Western  people  call  it),  and  drove  on  again  without  being 
detained  more  than  five  minutes.  The  fourth  night  slept  at 
Chamber sburgh,  the  beginning  of  a  fine  country. 

965.  August  7th. — Travelled  over  the  fine  limestone  valley 
before  mentioned,  and  through  a  very  good  country  all  the  way, 
by  Little  York  to  Lancaster.  Here  I  met  with  a  person  from 
Philadelphia,  who  told  me  a  long  story  about  a  Mr.  Hulme,  an 
Englishman,  who  had  brought  a  large  family  and  considerable 
property  to  America.  His  property,  he  told  me,  the  said  Mr. 
Hulme  had  got  from  the  English  Government,  for  the  invention 
of  some  machine,  and  that  now,  having  got  rich  under  their 
patronage,  he  was  going  about  this  country  doing  the  said  Govern- 
ment all  the  mischief  he  could,  and  endeavouring  to  promote  the 
interests  of  this  country.     After  letting  him  go  on  till  I  was 

231 


JOURNAL 

quite  satisfied  that  he  depends  mainly  for  his  bread  and  butter 
upon  the  English  Treasury,  I  said,  "  Well,  do  you  know  this  Mr. 
"  Hulme  ?  "  "  No,  he  had  only  heard  of  him."  "  Then  I 
"do,  and  I  know  that  he  never  had  any  patent,  nor  ever  asked 
"  for  one,  from  the  English  government  ;  all  he  has  got  he  has 
"  gained  by  his  own  industry  and  economy,  and,  so  far  from 
"  receiving  a  fortune  from  that  vile  government,  he  had  nothing 
"to  do  with  it  but  to  pay  and  obey,  without  being  allowed  to 
"  give  a  vote  for  a  Member  of  Parliament  or  for  any  Government 
"  Officer.  He  is  now,  thank  God,  in  a  country  where  he  cannot 
"  be  taxed  but  by  his  own  consent,  and,  if  he  should  succeed  in 
"  contributing  in  any  degree  to  the  downfall  of  the  English 
"  Government,  and  to  the  improvement  of  this  country,  he 
"  will  only  succeed  in  doing  his  duty."  This  man  could  be  no 
other  than  a  dependent  of  that  boroughmongering  system  which 
has  its  feelers  probing  every  quarter  and  corner  of  the  earth. 

966.  August  8th. — Return  to  Philadelphia,  after  a  journey  of 
72  days.  My  expences  for  this  journey,  including  every  thing, 
not  excepting  the  loss  sustained  by  the  purchase  and  sale  of  my 
horse,  amount  to  270  dollars  and  70  cents. 

967.  As  it  is  now  about  a  twelvemonth  since  I  have  been  settled 
in  Philadelphia,  or  set  foot  in  it,  rather,  with  my  family,  I  will  take 
a  look  at  my  books,  and  add  to  this  Journal  what  have  been  the 
expences  of  my  family  for  this  one  year,  from  the  time  of  landing 
to  this  day,  inclusive. 

Dolls.  Cents 
House-rent     ......     600  o 

Fuel    .......      137  o 

Schooling  (at  day-schools)  for  my 
children,  viz.  :    for  Thomas,  14 
years  of  age,  ...  40 

Peter  and  John,  ages  of  12  and  10  .48 

Sarah,  6  years  of  age         .  .  .        18 —  106  o 

Boarding  of  all  my  family  at  Mrs.  Anthony's 

Hotel  for  about  a  week,  on  our  arrival  .  .        80  o 

Expences  of  house-keeping  (my  family  fourteen 
in  number,  including  two  servants)  with  every 
other  out-going  not  enumerated   above,   tra- 
velling,    incidents,    two    newspapers    a    day, 
&c,  &c.      ......   2076         66 

Taxes,  not  a  cent.     .  .  .  ..00 

Priest,  not  a  cent.      .....00 


Total         2999         66 

968.  "  What  1  nothing  to  the  Parson  !  "  some  of  my  old 
neighbours  will  exclaim.  No  :  not  a  single  stiver.  The  Quakers 
manage  their  affairs  without  Parsons,  and  I  believe  they  are  as 
good  and  as  happy  a  people  as  any  religious  denomination  who 

232 


JOURNAL 

are  aided  and  assisted  by  a  priest.  I  do  not  suppose  that  the 
Quakers  will  admit  me  into  their  Society  ;  but,  in  this  free  country 
I  can  form  a  new  society,  if  I  choose,  and,  if  I  do,  it  certainly  shall 
be  a  Society  having  a  Chairman  in  place  of  a  Parson,  and  the 
assemblage  shall  discuss  the  subject  of  their  meeting  themselves. 
Why  should  there  not  be  as  much  knowledge  and  wisdom  and 
common  sense,  in  the  heads  of  a  whole  congregation,  as  in  the 
head  of  a  Parson  ?  Ah,  but  then  there  are  the  profits  arising 
from  the  trade  !  Some  of  this  holy  Order  in  England  receive 
upwards  of  40,000  dollars  per  annum  for  preaching  probably  not 
more  than  five  or  six  sermons  during  the  whole  year.  Well  may 
the  Cossack  Priests  represent  Old  England  as  the  bulwark  of 
religion  !  This  is  the  sort  of  religion  they  so  much  dreaded  the 
loss  of  during  the  French  Revolution  ;  and  this  is  the  sort  of 
religion  they  so  zealously  expected  to  establish  in  America,  when 
they^received  the  glad  tidings  of  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons 
and4the  Pope. 

END    OF   THE  JOURNAL. 


TO 

MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  Esq., 

OF 
ENGLISH  PRAIRIE,  ILLINOIS  TERRITORY, 


North  Hempstead,  Long  Island, 
10  Dec,  1818. 
My  Dear  Sir, 

969.  I  have  read  your  two  little  books,  namely,  the  "  Notes  on 
a  Journey  in  America"  and  the  "  Letters  from  the  Illinois ."  I 
opened  the  books,  and  I  proceeded  in  the  perusal,  with  fear  and 
trembling  :  not  because  I  supposed  it  possible  for  you  to  put  forth 
an  intended  imposition  on  the  world  ;  but,  because  I  had  a  sincere 
respect  for  the  character  and  talents  of  the  v/riter  ;  and  because 
I  knew  how  enchanting  and  delusive  are  the  prospects  of  en- 
thusiastic minds,  when  bent  on  grand  territorial  acquisitions. 

970.  My  apprehensions  were,  I  am  sorry  to  have  it  to  say,  but 
too  well  founded.  Your  books,  written,  I  am  sure,  without  any 
intention  to  deceive  and  decoy,  and  without  any  even  the  smallest 
tincture  of  base  self-interest,  are,  in  my  opinion,  calculated  to 
produce  great  disappointment,  not  to  say  misery  and  ruin,  amongst 
our  own  country  people  (for  I  will,  in  spite  of  your  disavowal, 
still  claim  the  honour  of  having  you  for  a  countryman),  and  great 
injury  to  America  by  sending  back  to  Europe  accounts  of  that 
disappointment,  misery,  and  ruin. 

971 .  It  is  very  true,  that  you  decline  advising  any  one  to  go  to  the 
Illinois,  and  it  is  also  true,  that  your  description  of  the  hardships 
you  encountered  is  very  candid  ;  but  still,  there  runs  throughout 
the  whole  of  your  Notes  such  an  account  as  to  the  prospect,  that 
is  to  say,  the  ultimate  effect,  that  the  book  is,  without  your  either 
wishing  or  perceiving  it,  calculated  to  deceive  and  decoy.  You 
do  indeed  describe  difficulties  and  hardships  :  but,  then,  you 
overcome  them  all  with  so  much  ease  and  gaiety,  that  you  make 

235 


LETTER  TO 


them  disregarded  by  your  English  readers,  who,  sitting  by  their 
fire-sides,  and  feeling  nothing  but  the  gripe  of  the  Borough- 
mongers  and  the  tax-gatherer,  merely  cast  a  glance  at  your  hard- 
ships and  fully  participate  in  all  your  enthusiasm.  You  do  indeed 
fairly  describe  the  rugged  roads,  the  dirty  hovels,  the  fire  in  the 
woods  to  sleep  by,  the  pathless  way9  through  the  wildernesses, 
the  dangerous  crossings  of  the  rivers  ;  but,  there  are  the  beautiful 
meadows  and  rich  lands  at  last  :  there  is  the  fine  freehold  domain 
at  the  end  !  There  are  the  giants  and  the  enchanters  to  encounter, 
the  slashings  and  the  rib-roastings  to  undergo  ;  but  then,  there 
is,  at  last,  the  lovely  languishing  damsel  to  repay  the  adventurer. 

972.  The  whole  of  your  writings  relative  to  your  undertaking, 
address  themselves  directly  to  English  Farmers,  who  have  property 
to  the  amount  of  two  or  three  thousand  pounds,  or  upwards. 
Persons  of  this  description  are,  not  by  your  express  words,  but 
by  the  natural  tendency  of  your  writings,  invited,  nay,  strongly 
invited,  to  emigrate  with  their  property  to  the  Illinois  Territory. 
Many  have  already  acted  upon  the  invitation.  Many  others  are 
about  to  follow  them.  I  am  convinced,  that  their  doing  this  is 
unwise,  and  greatly  injurious,  not  only  to  them,  but  to  the 
character  of  America  as  a  country  to  emigrate  to,  and,  as  I  have, 
in  the  first  Part  of  this  work,  promised  to  give,  as  far  as  I  am  able, 
a  true  account  of  America,  it  is  my  duty  to  state  the  reasons  on 
which  this  conviction  is  founded  ;  and,  I  address  the  statement 
to  you,  in  order,  that,  if  you  find  it  erroneous,  j^ou  may,  in  the  like 
public  manner,  show  wherein  I  have  committed  error. 

973  •  We  are  speaking,  my  dear  Sir,  of  English  farmers  possessing 
each  two  or  three  thousand  pounds  sterling.  And,  before  we 
proceed  to  inquire,  whether  such  persons  ought  to  emigrate  to 
the  West  or  to  the  East,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  inquire  a  little, 
whether  they  ought  to  emigrate  at  all !  Do  not  start,  now  ! 
For,  while  I  am  very  certain  that  the  emigration  of  such  persons 
is  not,  in  the  end,  calculated  to  produce  benefit  to  America,  as  a 
nation,  I  greatly  doubt  of  its  being  generally  speaking,  of  any 
benefit  to  the  emigrants  themselves,  if  we  take  into  view  the 
chances  of  their  speedy  relief  at  home. 

974.  Persons  of  advanced  age,  of  settled  habits,  of  deep  rooted 
prejudices,  of  settled  acquaintances,  of  contracted  sphere  of 
movement,  do  not,  to  use  Mr.  George  Flower's  expression, 
"  transplant  well."  Of  all  such  persons,  Farmers  transplant 
worst  ;  and,  of  all  Farmers,  English  Farmers  are  the  worst  to 
transplant.  Of  some  of  the  tears,  shed  in  the  Illinois,  an  account 
reached  me  several  months  ago,  through  an  eye-witness  of  perfect 
veracity,  and  a  very  sincere  friend  of  freedom,  and  of  you,  and 
whose  information  was  given  me,  unasked  for,  and  in  the  presence 
of  several  Englishmen,  every  one  of  whom,  as  well  as  myself, 
most  ardently  wished  you  success. 

975.  It  is  nothing,  my  dear  Sir,  to  say,  as  you  do,  in  the  Preface 
to  the  Letters  from  the  Illinois,  "  that  as  little  would  I  encourage 

236 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


"  the  emigration  of  the  tribe  of  grumblers,  people  who  are  petulant 
"  and  discontented  under  the  every -day  evils  of  life.  Life  has 
"  its  petty  miseries  in  all  situations  and  climates,  to  be  mitigated 
"  or  cured  by  the  continual  efforts  of  an  elastic  spirit,  or  to  be 
"  borne,  if  incurable,  with  cheerful  patience.  But  the  peevish 
"  emigrant  is  perpetually  comparing  the  comforts  he  has  quitted, 
"  but  never  could  enjoy,  with  the  privations  of  his  new  allotment. 
"  He  overlooks  the  present  good,  and  broods  over  the  evil  with 
"  habitual  perverseness  :  whilst  in  the  recollection  of  the  past,  he 
"  dwells  on  the  good  only.  Such  people  are  always  bad  associates, 
"  but  they  are  an  especial  nuisance  in  an  infant  colony." 

976.  Give  me  leave  to  say,  my  dear  Sir,  that  there  is  too  much 
asperity  in  this  language,  considering  who  were  the  objects  of  the 
censure.  Nor  do  you  appear  to  me  to  afford,  in  this  instance,  a 
very  happy  illustration  of  the  absence  of  that  peevishness,  which 
you  perceive  in  others,  and  for  the  yielding  to  which  you  call  them 
a  nuisance  :  an  appellation  much  too  harsh  for  the  object  and  for 
the  occasion.  If  you,  with  all  your  elasticity  of  spirit,  all  your 
ardour  of  pursuit,  all  your  compensations  of  fortune  in  prospect, 
and  all  your  gratifications  of  fame  in  possession,  cannot  with 
patience  hear  the  wailings  of  some  of  your  neighbours,  into  what 
source  are  they  to  dip  for  the  waters  of  content  and  good-humour  ? 

977.  It  is  no  "  every-day  evil  "  that  they  have  to  bear.  For  an 
English  Farmer,  and,  more  especially,  an  English  Farmer's  wife, 
after  crossing  the  sea  and  travelling  to  the  Illinois,  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  expended  a  third  of  their  substance,  to 
purchase,  as  yet,  nothing  but  sufferings  ;  for  such  persons  to 
boil  their  pot  in  the  gipsy-fashion,  to  have  a  mere  board  to  eat 
on,  to  drink  whisky  or  pure  water,  to  sit  and  sleep  under  a  shed  far 
inferior  to  their  English  cow-pens,  to  have  a  mill  at  twenty  miles 
distance,  an  apothecary's  shop  at  a  hundred,  and  a  doctor  no 
where  :  these,  my  dear  Sir,  are  not,  to  such  people,  "  every-day 
"  evils  of  life."  You,  though  in  your  little  "  cabin,"  have  your 
books,  you  have  your  name  circulating  in  the  world,  you  have  it 
to  be  given,  by  and  bye,  to  a  city  or  a  county,  and,  if  you  fail  of 
brilliant  success,  you  have  still  a  sufficiency  of  fortune  to  secure 
you  a  safe  retreat.  Almost  the  whole  of  your  neighbours  must  be 
destitute  of  all  these  sources  of  comfort,  hope,  and  consolation. 
As  they  now  are,  their  change  is,  and  must  be,  for  the  worst  ; 
and,  as  to  the  future,  besides  the  uncertainty  attendant,  every 
where,  on  that  which  is  to  come,  they  ought  to  be  excused,  if  they, 
at  their  age,  despair  of  seeing  days  as  happy  as  those  that  they 
have  seen. 

978.  It  were  much  better  for  such  people  not  to  emigrate  at  all  ; 
for  while  they  are  sure  to  come  into  a  state  of  some  degree  of 
suffering,  they  leave  behind  them  the  chance  of  happy  days  ;  and, 
in  my  opinion,  a  certainty  of  such  days.  I  think  it  next  to  im- 
possible for  any  man  of  tolerable  information  to  believe,  that  the 
present  tyranny  of  the  seat-owners  can  last  another  two  years. 
R  237 


LETTER  TO 


As  to  what  change  will  take  place,  it  would,  perhaps,  be  hard  to 
say  :  but,  that  some  great  change  will  come  is  certain  ;  and,  it 
is  also  certain,  that  the  change  must  be  for  the  better.  Indeed,  one 
of  the  motives  for  the  emigration  of  many  is  said  to  be,  that  they 
think  a  convulsion  inevitable.  Why  should  such  persons  as  I  am 
speaking  of  fear  a  convulsion  ?  Why  should  they  suppose,  that 
they  will  suffer  by  a  convulsion  ?  What  have  they  done  to  pro- 
voke the  rage  of  the  blanketteers  ?  Do  they  think  that  their 
countrymen,  all  but  themselves,  will  be  transformed  into  prowling 
wolves  ?  This  is  precisely  what  the  Boroughmongers  wish  them 
to  believe  ;  and,  believing  it,  they  flee  instead  of  remaining  to 
assist  to  keep  the  people  down,  as  the  Boroughmongers  wish  them 
to  do. 

979.  Being  here,  however,  they,  as  you  say,  think  only  of  the 
good  they  have  left  behind  them,  and  of  the  bad  they  find  here. 
This  is  no  fault  of  theirs  :  it  is  the  natural  course  of  the  human 
mind  ;  and  this  you  ought  to  have  known.  You  yourself  ack- 
nowledge, that  England  "  was  never  so  dear  to  you  as  it  is  now  in 
"  recollection  ;  being  no  longer  under  its  base  oligarchy,  I  can 
"  think  of  my  native  country  and  her  noble  institutions,  apart  from 
'*  her  politics."  I  may  ask  you,  by  the  way,  what  noble  institutions 
she  has,  which  are  not  of  a  political  nature  ?  Say  the  oppressions 
of  her  tyrants,  say  that  you  can  think  of  her  and  love  her  renown 
and  her  famous  political  institutions,  apart  from  those  oppressions 
and  then  I  go  with  you  with  all  my  heart  ;  but,  so  thinking,  and 
so  feeling,  I  cannot  say  with  you,  in  your  Notes,  that  England  is 
to  me  "  matter  of  history"  nor  with  you,  in  your  Letters  from 
the  Illinois,  that  "  where  liberty  is,  there  is  my  country." 

980.  But,  leaving  this  matter,  for  the  present,  if  English  Farmers 
must  emigrate,  why  should  they  encounter  unnecessary  difficulties? 
Coming  from  a  country  like  a  garden,  why  should  they  not  stop 
in  another  somewhat  resembling  that  which  they  have  lived  in 
before  ?  Why  should  they,  at  an  expence  amounting  to  a  large 
part  of  what  they  possess,  prowl  two  thousand  miles  at  the  hazard 
of  their  limbs  and  lives,  take  women  and  children  through  scenes 
of  hardship  and  distress  not  easily  described,  and  that  too,  to  live 
like  gipsies  at  the  end  of  their  journey,  for,  at  least,  a  year  or  two, 
and,  as  I  think  I  shall  show,  without  the  smallest  chance  of  their 
finally  doing  so  well  as  they  may  do  in  these  Atlantic  States  ? 
Why  should  an  English  Farmer  and  his  family,  who  have  always 
been  jogging  about  a  snug  home-stead,  eating  regular  meals,  and 
sleeping  in  warm  rooms,  push  back  to  the  Illinois,  and  encounter 
those  hardships,  which  require  all  the  habitual  disregard  of  com- 
fort of  an  American  back-woods-man  to  overcome  ?  Why 
should  they  do  this  ?  The  undertaking  is  hardly  reconcileable 
to  reason  in  an  Atlantic  American  Farmer  who  has  half  a  dozen 
sons,  all  brought  up  to  use  the  axe,  the  saw,  the  chisel  and  the 
hammer  from  their  infancy,  and  every  one  of  whom  is  ploughman  y 
carpenter,  wheelwright  and  butcher,  and  can  work  from  sun-rise., 

238 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


to  sun-set,  and  sleep,  if  need  be,  upon  the  bare  boards.  What, 
then,  must  it  be  in  an  English  Farmer  and  his  family  of  helpless 
mortals  ?  Helpless,  I  mean,  in  this  scene  of  such  novelty  and 
such  difficulty  ?  And  what  is  his  wife  to  do  ;  she  who  has  been 
torn  from  all  her  relations  and  neighbours,  and  from  every  thing 
that  she  liked  in  the  world,  and  who,  perhaps,  has  never,  in  all  her 
life  before,  been  ten  miles  from  the  cradle  in  which  she  was  nursed? 
An  American  farmer  mends  his  plough,  his  waggon,  his  tackle 
of  all  sorts,  his  household  goods,  his  shoes  ;  and,  if  need  be,  he 
makes  them  all.  Can  our  people  do  all  this,  or  any  part  of  it  ? 
Can  they  live  without  bread  for  months  ?  Can  they  live  without 
beer  ?  Can  they  be  otherwise  than  miserable,  cut  off,  as  they 
must  be,  from  all  intercourse  with,  and  hope  of  hearing  of,  their 
relations  and  friends  ?  The  truth  is,  that  this  is  not  transplanting, 
it  is  tearing  up  and  flinging  away. 

981.  Society  !  What  society  can  these  people  have  ?  'Tis  true 
they  have  nobody  to  envy,  for  nobody  can  have  any  thing  to  enjoy. 
But  there  may  be,  and  there  must  be,  mutual  complainings  and 
upbraidings  ;  and  every  unhappiness  will  be  traced  directly  to 
him  who  has  been,  however  unintentionally,  the  cause  of  the 
unhappy  person's  removal.  The  very  foundation  of  your  plan 
necessarily  contained  the  seeds  of  discontent  and  ill-will.  A 
colony  all  from  the  same  country  was  the  very  worst  project  that 
could  have  been  fallen  upon.  You  took  upon  yourself  the  charge 
of  Moses  without  being  invested  with  any  part  of  his  authority  : 
and  absolute  as  this  was,  he  found  the  charge  so  heavy,  that  he 
called  upon  the  Lord  to  share  it  with  him,  or  to  relieve  him  from 
it  altogether.  Soon  after  you  went  out,  an  Unitarian  Priest,  upon 
my  asking  what  you  were  going  to  do  in  that  wild  country,  said, 
you  were  going  to  form  a  community,  who  would  be  "  content 
"  to  worship  one  God"  "  I  hope  not,"  said  I,  "  for  he  will  have 
"  plagues  enough  without  adding  a  priest  to  the  number."  But, 
perhaps,  I  was  wrong  :  for  Aaron  was  of  great  assistance  to  the 
leader  of  the  Israelites. 

982.  As  if  the  inevitable  effects  of  disappointment  and  hardship 
were  not  sufficient,  you  had,  too,  a  sort  of  partnership  in  the 
leaders.  This  is  sure  to  produce  feuds  and  bitterness  in  the  long 
run.  Partnership-sovereignties  have  furnished  the  world  with 
numerous  instances  of  poisonings  and  banishments  and  rottings 
in  prison.  It  is  as  much  as  merchants,  who  post  their  books  every 
Sunday,  can  do  to  get  along  without  quarrelling.  Of  man  and 
wife,  though  they  are  flesh  of  flesh  and  bone  of  bone,  the  harmony 
is  not  always  quite  perfect,  except  in  France,  where  the  husband 
is  the  servant,  and  in  Germany  and  Prussia,  where  the  wife  is  the 
slave.  But,  as  for  a  partnership  sovereignty  without  disagree- 
ment, there  is  but  one  single  instance  upon  record  ;  that,  I  mean, 
was  of  the  two  kings  of  Brentford,  whose  cordiality  was,  you  know, 
so  perfect,  that  they  both  smelt  to  the  same  nosegay.  This  is, 
my  dear  Sir,  no  bantering.     I  am  quite  serious.     It  is  impossible 

239 


LETTER  TO 


that  separations  should  not  take  place,  and  equally  impossible 
that  the  neighbourhood  should  not  be  miserable.  This  is  not  the 
way  to  settle  in  America.  The  way  is,  to  go  and  sit  yourself  down 
amongst  the  natives.  They  are  already  settled.  They  can  lend 
you  what  you  want  to  borrow,  and  happy  they  are  always  to  do  it. 
And,  which  is  the  great  thing  of  all  great  things,  you  have  their 
women  for  your  women  to  commune  with  I 

983.  Rapp,  indeed,  has  done  great  things  ;  but  Rapp  has  the 
authority  of  Moses  and  that  of  Aaron  united  in  his  own  person. 
Besides  Rapp's  community  observe  in  reality  that  celibacy,  which 
Monks  and  Nuns  pretend  to,  though  I  am  not  going  to  take  my 
oath,  mind,  that  none  of  the  tricks  of  the  Convent  are  ever  played 
in  the  tabernacles  of  Harmony.  At  any  rate,  Rapp  secures  the 
effects  of  celibacy  ;  first,  an  absence  of  the  expence  attending  the 
breeding  and  rearing  of  children,  and,  second,  unremitted  labour 
of  woman  as  well  as  man.  But,  where,  in  all  the  world  is  the 
match  of  this  to  be  found  ?  Where  else  shall  we  look  for  a  Society 
composed  of  persons  willing  and  able  to  forego  the  gratification 
of  the  most  powerful  propensity  of  nature,  for  the  sake  of  getting 
money  together  ?  Where  else  shall  we  look  for  a  band  of  men  and 
women  who  love  money  better  than  their  own  bodies  ?  Better 
than  their  souls  we  find  people  enough  to  love  money  ;  but,  who 
ever  before  heard  of  a  set  that  preferred  the  love  of  money  to  that 
of  their  bodies  ?  Who,  before,  ever  conceived  the  idea  of  putting 
a  stop  to  the  procreation  of  children,  for  the  sake  of  saving  the 
expence  of  bearing  and  breeding  them  ?  This  Society,  which  is  a 
perfect  prodigy  and  monster,  ought  to  have  the  image  of  MAM- 
MON in  their  place  of  worship  ;  for  that  is  the  object  of  their 
devotion,  and  not  the  God  of  nature.  Yet  the  persons  belonging 
to  this  unnatural  association  are  your  nearest  neighbours.  The 
masculine  things  here,  called  women,  who  have  imposed  barren- 
ness on  themselves,  out  of  a  pure  love  of  gain,  are  the  nearest  neigh- 
bours of  the  affectionate,  tender-hearted  wives  and  mothers  and 
daughters,  who  are  to  inhabit  your  colony,  and  who  are,  let  us 
thank  God,  the  very  reverse  of  the  petticoated  Germans  of 
Harmony. 

984.  In  such  a  situation,  with  so  many  circumstances  to  annoy, 
what  happiness  can  an  English  family  enjoy  in  that  country,  so 
far  distant  from  all  that  resembles  what  they  have  left  behind 
them  ?  "  The  fair  Enchantress,  Liberty"  of  whom  you  speak 
with  not  too  much  rapture,  they  would  have  found  in  any  of  these 
States,  and,  in  a  garb,  too,  by  which  they  would  have  recognised 
her.  Where  they  now  are,  they  are  free  indeed  ;  but  their  free- 
dom is  that  of  the  wild  animals  in  your  woods.  It  is  not  freedom, 
it  is  no  government.  The  Gipsies,  in  England,  are  free  :  and  any 
one,  who  has  a  mind  to  live  in  a  cave,  or,  cabin,  in  some  hidden 
recess  of  our  Hampshire  forests,  may  be  free  too.  The  English 
farmer,  in  the  Illinois,  is,  indeed,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Borough- 
mongers  ;   and  so  is  the  man  that  is  in  the  grave.     When  it  was 

240 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


first  proposed,  in  the  English  Ministry,  to  drop  quietly  the  title  of 
King  of  France  in  the  enumeration  of  our  king's  titles,  and,  when 
it  was  stated  to  be  an  expedient  likely  to  tend  to  a  peace,  Mr. 
Windham,  who  was  then  a  member  of  the  Cabinet,  said  :  "As 
"  this  is  a  measure  of  safety,  and  as,  doubtless,  we  shall  hear  of 
"  others  of  the  same  cast,  what  think  you  of  going  under  ground 
"  at  once  ?  "  It  was  a  remark  enough  to  cut  the  liver  out  of  the 
hearers  ;  but  Pitt  and  his  associates  had  no  livers.  I  do  not 
believe,  that  any  twelve  Journeymen,  or  Labourers,  in  England 
would  have  voted  for  the  adoption  of  this  mean  and  despicable 
measure. 

985.  If,  indeed,  the  Illinois  were  the  only  place  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  Borough-grasp  ;  and,  if  men  are  resolved  to  get  out  of  that 
reach  ;  then,  I  should  say,  Go  to  the  Illinois,  by  all  means.  But, 
as  there  is  a  country,  a  settled  country,  a  free  country,  full  of  kind 
neighbours,  full  of  all  that  is  good,  and  when  this  country  is  to  be 
traversed  in  order  to  get  at  the  acknowledged  hardships  of  the 
Illinois,  how  can  a  sane  mind  lead  an  English  Farmer  into  the 
expedition  ? 

986.  It  is  the  enchanting  damsel  that  makes  the  knight  encounter 
the  hair-breadth  scapes,  the  sleeping  on  the  ground,  the  cooking 
with  cross-sticks  to  hang  the  pot  on.  It  is  the  Prairie,  that  pretty 
French  word,  which  means  green  grass  bespangled  with  daisies 
and  cowslips  !  Oh,  God  !  What  delusion  !  And  that  a  man 
of  sense  ;  a  man  of  superior  understanding  and  talent  ;  a  man  of 
honesty,  honour,  humanity,  and  lofty  sentiment,  should  be  the 
cause  of  this  delusion  ;  I,  my  dear  Sir,  have  seen  Prairies  many 
years  ago,  in  America,  as  fine  as  yours,  as  fertile  as  yours,  though 
not  so  extensive.  I  saw  those  Prairies  settled  on  by  American 
Loyalists,  who  were  carried,  with  all  their  goods  and  tools  to  the 
spot,  and  who  were  furnished  with  four  years'  provisions,  all  at 
the  expence  of  England  :  who  had  the  lands  given  them  :  tools 
given  them  :  and  who  were  thus  seated  down  on  the  borders  of 
creeks,  which  gave  them  easy  communication  with  the  inhabited 
plains  near  the  sea.  The  settlers  that  I  particularly  knew  were 
Connecticut  men.  Men  with  families  of  sons.  Men  able  to  do 
as  much  in  a  day  at  the  works  necessary  in  their  situation  as  so 
many  Englishmen  would  be  able  to  do  in  a  week.  They  began 
with  a  shed  :  then  rose  to  a  log-house  :  and  next  to  a  frame- 
house  :  all  of  their  own  building.  I  have  seen  them  manure  their 
land  with  Salmon  caught  in  their  creeks,  and  with  pigeons  caught 
on  the  land  itself.  It  will  be  a  long  while  before  you  will  see  such 
beautiful  Corn-fields  as  I  saw  there.  Yet  nothing  but  the  danger 
and  disgrace  which  attended  their  return  to  Connecticut  prevented 
their  returning,  though  there  they  must  have  begun  the  world 
anew.  I  saw  them  in  their  log-huts,  and  saw  them  in  their  frame- 
houses.  They  had  overcome  all  their  difficulties  as  settlers  ; 
they  were  under  a  government  which  required  neither  tax  nor 
service  from  them  ;   they  were  as  happy  as  people  could  be  as  to 

241 


LETTER  TO 


ease  and  plenty  ;  but  still,  they  sighed  for  Connecticut  :  and 
especially  the  women  young  as  well  as  old,  though  we,  gay  fellows 
with  worsted  or  silver  lace  upon  our  bright  red  coats,  did  our  best 
to  make  them  happy  by  telling  them  entertaining  stories  about 
Old  England,  while  we  drank  their  coffee  and  grog  by  gallons, 
and  eat  their  fowls,  pigs  and  sausages  and  sweet-meats,  by  wheel- 
barrow loads  ;  for,  though  we  were  by  no  means  shy,  their  hos- 
pitality far  exceeded  our  appetites.  I  am  an  old  hand  at  the  work 
of  settling  in  wilds.  I  have,  more  than  once  or  twice,  had  to  begin 
my  nest  and  go  in,  like  a  bird,  making  it  habitable  by  degrees  ; 
and,  if  I,  or,  if  such  people  as  my  old  friends  above-mentioned, 
with  every  thing  found  for  them  and  brought  to  the  spot,  had 
difficulties  to  undergo,  and  sighed  for  home  even  after  all  the 
difficulties  were  over,  what  must  be  the  lot  of  an  English  Farmer's 
family  in  the  Illinois  ? 

987.  All  this  I  told  you,  my  dear  sir,  in  London,  just  before 
your  departure.  I  begged  of  you  and  Mr.  Richard  Flower  both, 
not  to  think  of  the  Wildernesses.  I  begged  of  you  to  go  to  within 
a  day's  ride  of  some  of  these  great  cities,  where  your  ample  capital 
and  your  great  skill  could  not  fail  to  place  you  upon  a  footing, 
at  least,  with  the  richest  amongst  the  most  happy  and  enlightened 
Yeomanry  in  the  world  ;  where  you  would  find  every  one  to  praise 
the  improvements  you  would  introduce,  and  nobody  to  envy  you 
any  thing  that  you  might  acquire.  Where  you  would  find  society 
as  good,  in  all  respects,  as  that  which  you  had  left  behind  you. 
Where  you  would  find  neighbours  ready  prepared  for  you  far 
more  generous  and  hospitable  than  those  in  England  can  be, 
loaded  and  pressed  down  as  they  are  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  the 
Borough -villains.  I  offered  you  a  letter  (which,  I  believe,  I  sent 
you),  to  my  friends  the  Pauls.     "  But,"  said  I,  "  you  want  no 

'  letter.  Go  into  Philadelphia,  or  Bucks,  or  Chester,  or  Mont- 
'  gomery  County  ;  tell  any  of  the  Quakers,  or  any  body  else,  that 
'  you  are  an  English  Farmer,  come  to  settle  amongst  them  ;  and, 
'  I'll  engage  that  you  will  instantly  have  friends  and  neighbours 
'  as  good  and  as  cordial  as  those  that  you  leave  in  England." 

988.  At  this  very  moment,  if  this  plan  had  been  pursued  you 
would  have  had  a  beautiful  farm  of  two  or  three  hundred  acres. 
Fine  stock  upon  it  feeding  on  Swedish  Turnips.  A  house  over- 
flowing with  abundance  ;  comfort,  ease,  and,  if  you  chose, 
elegance,  would  have  been  your  inmates  ;  libraries ,  public  and 
private  within  your  reach  ;  and  a  communication  with  England 
much  more  quick  and  regular  than  that  which  you  now  have  even 
with  Pittsburgh. 

989.  You  say,  that  "  Philadelphians  know  nothing  of  the  Western 
"  Countries."  Suffer  me,  then,  to  say,  that  you  know  nothing 
of  the  Atlantic  States,  which,  indeed,  is  the  only  apology  for  your 
saying,  that  the  Americans  have  no  mutton  fit  to  eat,  and  regard  it 
only  as  a  thing  fit  for  dogs.  In  this  island  every  farmer  has  sheep. 
I  kill  fattei-  lamb  than  I  ever  saw  in  England,  and  the  fattest 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


mutton  I  ever  saw,  was  in  company  with  Mr.  Harline,  in  Phila- 
delphia market  last  winter.  At  Brighton,  near  Boston,  they 
produced,  at  a  cattle  shew  this  fall,  an  ox  of  two-thousand  seven- 
hundred  pounds  weight,  and  sheep  much  finer,  than  you  and  I  saw 
at  the  Smithfield  Show  in  1814.  Mr.  Judge  Lawrence  of  this 
county,  has  kept,  for  seven  years,  an  average  of  five  hundred 
Merinos  on  his  farm  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres,  besides  raising 
twenty  acres  of  Corn  and  his  usual  pretty  large  proportion  of 
grain  !  Can  your  Western  Farmers  beat  that  ?  Yes,  in  extent, 
as  the  surface  of  five  dollars  beats  that  of  a  guinea. 

990.  I  suppose  that  Mr.  Judge  Lawrence's  farm,  close  by  the 
side  of  a  bay  that  gives  him  two  hours  of  water  carriage  to  New- 
York  ;  a  farm  with  twenty  acres  of  meadow,  real  prairie  :  a 
gentleman's  house  and  garden  ;  barns,  sheds,  cider-house, 
stables,  coach-house,  corn-cribs,  and  orchards  that  may  produce 
from  four  to  eight  thousand  bushels  of  apples  and  pears  :  I  sup- 
pose, that  this  farm  is  worth  three  hundred  dollars  an  acre  ;  that 
is,  forty-five  thousand  dollars  ;  or  about,  twelve  or  thirteen  thousand 
pounds. 

991.  Now,  then,  let  us  take  a  look  at  your  estimate  of  the  ex- 
pences  of  sitting  down  in  the  prairies. 


Copy  from  my  Memorandum  Book. 

992.  Estimate  of  money  required  for  the  comfortable  establish- 
ment of  my  family  on  Bolting  House,  now  English,  prairie  ; 
on  which  the  first  instalment  is  paid.  About  720  acres  of  wood- 
land, and  720  prairie — the  latter  to  be  chiefly  grass  : — 

Dollars. 
Second  instalment     .  .  .  August,  18 19,  720 

Third  ditto       ....  August,  1820,  720 

Fourth  ditto     ....  August,  1821,  720 


Dwelling-house  and  appurtenances 

Other  buildings         ...... 

4680  rods  of  fencing,  viz.,  3400  on  the  prairie,  and  1280 

round  the  woodland        ..... 
Sundry  wells,  200  dollars  ;   gates,  100  dollars  ;   cabins 

200  dollars    ....... 

100  head  of  cattle,  900  dollars  ;    20  sows,  &c,   100 

dollars  ;    sheep,  1000  dollars 
Ploughs,  waggons,   &c,  and  sundry  tools  and  imple 

ments  .  .  .  .  . 

Housekeeping  until  the  land  supplies  us 


Carried  over 
243 


2,160 
4,500 
1,500 

1,170 

500 

2,000 

270 
1,000 


13,100 


LETTER  TO 


Dollars. 

Brought  over  .  .  .  .  13,100 
Shepherd  one  year's  wages,  herdsmen  one  year,  and 

sundry  other  labourers  .....  1,000 
One  cabinet-maker,  one  wheel-wright,  one  year,  making 

furniture  and  implements,  300  dollars  each  .  ...  600 
Sundry    articles    of    furniture,    ironmongery,    pottery, 

glass,  &c.     ........  500 

Sundries,  fruit  trees,  &c.            .          .          .          .          .  100 

First  instalment  already  paid     .....  720 

Five  horses  on  hand,  worth      .....  300 

Expence    of   freight   and    carriage    of  linen,    bedding, 

books,  clothing,  &c.       ......  1,000 

Value  of  articles  brought  from  England         .          .          .  4,500 

Voyage  and  journey            .          .          .          .                    •  2,000 


Doll.         23,820 
23,820  dollars — £5,359  sterling. 
Allow  about  600  dollars  more  for  seed  and  corn        141 

£5>500 

993.  So,  here  is  more  than  one  third  of  the  amount  of  Mr. 
Judge  Lawrence's  farm.  To  be  sure,  there  are  only  about  18,000 
dollars  expended  on  land,  buildings,  and  getting  at  them  :  but, 
what  a  life  is  that  which  you  are  to  lead  for  a  thousand  dollars  a 
year,  when  two  good  domestic  servants  will  cost  four  hundred 
of  the  money  ?  Will  you  live  like  one  of  the  Yeomen  of  your  rank 
here  ?  Then,  I  assure  you,  that  your  domestics  and  groceries 
(the  latter  three  times  as  dear  as  they  are  here)  and  crockery-ware 
(equally  dear)  will  more  than  swallow  up  that  pitiful  sum.  You 
allow  six  thousand  dollars  for  buildings.  Twice  the  sum  would 
not  put  you,  in  this  respect,  upon  a  footing  with  Mr.  Lawrence. 
His  land  is  all  completely  fenced  and  his  grain  in  the  ground. 
His  apple  trees  have  six  thousand  bushels  of  apples  in  their  buds, 
ready  to  come  out  in  the  spring  ;  and,  a  large  part  of  these  to  be 
sold  at  a  high  price  to  go  on  ship-board.  But,  what  is  to  give  you 
his  market  ?  What  is  to  make  your  pork,  as  soon  as  killed,  sell 
for  9  or  10  dollars  a  hundred,  and  your  cows  at  45  or  50  dollars 
each,  and  your  beef  at  7  or  8  dollars  a  hundred,  and  your  corn  at  a 
dollar,  and  wheat  at  two  dollars  a  bushel  ? 

994.  However,  happiness  is  in  the  mind  :  and,  if  it  be  necessary 
to  the  gratification  of  your  mind  to  inhabit  a  wilderness  and  be  the 
owner  of  a  large  tract  of  land,  you  are  right  to  seek  and  enjoy  this 
gratification.  But,  for  the  plain,  plodding  English  Farmer,  who 
simply  seeks  safety  for  his  little  property,  with  some  addition  to 
it  for  his  children  ;  for  such  a  person  to  cross  the  Atlantic  states 
in  search  of  safety,  tranquillity  and  gain  in  the  Illinois,  is,  to  my 
mind,  little  short  of  madness.     Yet  to  this  mad  enterprize  is  he 

244 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


allured  by  your  captivating  statements,  and  which  statements  be- 
come decisive  in  their  effects  upon  his  mind,  when  they  are 
reduced  to  figures.  This,  my  dear  Sir,  is  the  part  of  your  writings, 
which  has  given  me  most  pain.  You  have  not  meant  to  deceive  : 
but  you  have  first  practised  a  deceit  upon  yourself,  and  then  upon 
others.  All  the  disadvantages  you  state  :  but,  then,  you  ac- 
company the  statement  by  telling  us  how  quickly  and  how  easily 
they  will  be  overcome.  Salt,  Mr.  Hulme  finds,  even  at  Zanes- 
ville,  at  two  dollars  and  a  half  a  bushel  :  but,  you  tell  us,  that  it 
soon  will  be  at  three  quarters  of  a  dollar.  And  thus  it  goes  all 
through. 

995.  I  am  happy,  however,  that  you  have  given  us  figures  in 
your  account  of  what  an  English  farmer  may  do  with  two  thousand 
pounds.  It  is  alluring,  it  is  fallacious,  it  tends  to  disappointment, 
misery,  ruin  and  broken  hearts  ;  but  it  is  open  and  honest  in 
intention,  and  it  affords  us  the  means  of  detecting  and  exposing 
the  fallacy.  Many  and  many  a  family  have  returned  to  New 
England  after  having  emigrated  to  the  West  in  search  of  fine 
estates.  They,  able  workmen,  exemplary  livers,  have  returned  to 
labour  in  their  native  States  amongst  their  relations  and  old 
neighbours  ;  but,  what  are  our  poor  ruined  countrymen  to  do, 
when  they  become  pennyless  ?  If  I  could  root  my  country  from 
my  heart,  common  humanity  would  urge  me  to  make  an  humble 
attempt  to  dissipate  the  charming  delusions,  which  have,  without 
your  perceiving  it,  gone  forth  from  your  sprightly  and  able  pen, 
and  which  delusions  are  the  more  dangerous  on  account  of  your 
justly  high  and  well-known  character  for  understanding  and 
integrity. 

996.  The  statement,  to  which  I  allude,  stands  as  follows,  in 
your  tenth  Letter  from  the  Illinois. 

997.  A  capital  of  2000/.  sterling,  (8,889  dollars)  may  be  invested 
on  a  section  of  such  land,  in  the  following  manner,  viz. 

Dollars. 
Purchase  of  the  land,  640  acres,  at  2  dollars  per  acre.           .  1280 
House  and  buildings,  exceedingly  convenient  and  com- 
fortable, may  be  built  for         .....  1500 

A  rail  fence  round  the  woods,  1000  rods,  at  25  cents  per 

rod       .........  250 

About  1800  rods  of  ditch  and  bank,  to  divide  the  arable 

land  into  10  fields.          ......  600 

Planting  1800  rods  of  live  fence            .          .          .          .  150 

Fruit  trees  for  orchard,  &c.      .          .          .          .          .  100 

Horses  and  other  live  stock      .....  150° 

Implements  and  furniture          .....  1000 

Carried  over  .  .  .         6380 

245 


LETTER  TO 


Brought  over 

Provision  for  one  year,  and  sundry  incidental  charges    . 
Sundry  articles  of  linen,  books,  apparel,  implements, 
&c,  brought  from  England   ..... 
Carriage  of  ditto,  suppose  2000  lbs.  at  10  dollars  per  cwt. 
Voyage  and  travelling  expences  of  one  person,  suppose 


Note. — The  first  instalment  on  the  land  is  320  dollars, 
therefore  960  dollars  of  the  purchase  money  remain  in 
hand  to  be  applied  to  the  expences  of  cultivation,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  sums  above  stated. 

Expenditure  of  first  Year. 
Breaking  up  100  acres,  2  dollars  per  acre 
Indian  corn  for  feed,  5  barrels,  (a  barrel  is  five  bushels) 
Planting  ditto  ........ 

Horse-hoeing  ditto,  one  dollar  per  acre 
Harvesting  ditto,  ij  dollar  per  acre 
Ploughing  the  same  land  for  wheat,  1  dollar  per  acre 
Seed  wheat,  sowing  and  harrowing   .... 

Incidental  expences    ....... 

Produce  of  first  Year 
100  acres  of  Indian  corn,  50  bushels  (or  10  barrels)  per 
acre,  at  2  dollars  per  barrel  .... 

Net  produce 

Expenditure  of  second  Year. 
Breaking  up  100  acres  for  Indian  corn,  with  expences  on 
that  crop      ...... 

Harvesting  and  threshing  wheat,  100  acres 
Ploughing  100  acres  for  wheat,  seed,  &c. . 
Incidents  ...... 

Produce  of  second  Year 
100  acres  Indian  corn,  10  barrels  per  acre, 

2  dollars  per  barrel       ....  2000 

100  acres  wheat,  20  bushels  per  acre,  75 

dollars  per  barrel.  ....  1500- 


Dollars. 
6380 
1000 

1000 
200 
309 

8889 


200 
10 

25 
100 

150 
100 

175 
240 

1000 

2000 

1000 


Net  produce 


485 
350 
275 
290 

1400 


-3500 


2100 


246 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


Expenditure  of  third  Year. 

Breaking  up  ioo  acres  as  before,  with  expences  on  crop 
of  Indian  corn      ....... 

Ploughing  ioo  acres  of  wheat  stubble  for  Indian  corn 

Horse  hoeing,  harvesting,  &c.  ditto 

Harvesting  and  threshing  ioo  acres  wheat 

Dung-carting  ioo  acres  for  wheat,  after  second  crop  of 
Indian  corn.  ....... 

Ploughing  200  acres  wheat,  seed,  &c. 

Incidents  ........ 


Produce  of  third  Year. 


200  acres  of  Indian  corn,    10  barrels  per 

acre,  2  dollars  per  barrel 
100  acres  wheat,  20  bushels  per  acre,  75 

dollars  per  barrel.  .... 

Net  produce 
Expenditure  of  fourth   Year. 

As  the  third    ....... 

Harvesting  and  threshing  100  acres  more  wheat    . 
Additional  incidents  ..... 


Produce  of  fourth  Year. 


200  acres  Indian  corn,  as  above 
200  acres  wheat 


Net  produce 
Summary. 


4000 
1500 


Dollars. 

485 
100 

285 

35° 
200 

330 
2300 


55oo 
3200 

2300 
35o 

2700 

Dollars. 


4000 
3000- 


-7000 
4300 


First  year 
Second 


Carried  over 


EXPENCES. 

Dollars. 
1000 
1400 

2400 

247 


PRODUCE. 

Dollars. 
2000 
35oo 

5500 


LETTER  TO 


EXPENCES. 

PRODUCTS. 

Dollars. 

Dollars. 

Brought  over 

2400 

55oo 

Third 

. 

2300     . 

5500 

Fourth 

. 

2700     . 

7000 

18000 
House-keeping     and     other 

expences  for  four  years      .  4000  11400 

Net  proceeds  per  annum    ......  1650 

Increasing  value  of  land  by  cultivation  and  settlements, 

half  a  dollar  per  ann.  on  640  acres     .  .  .  .  320 

Annual  clear  profit     .  .  .       1970 


998.  "Twenty  more:  kill  'em!  Twenty  more:  kill  them 
"  too  !  "  No  :  I  will  not  compare  you  to  Bobadil  :  for  he  was 
an  intentional  deceiver  ;  and  you  are  unintentionally  deceiving 
others  and  yourself  too.  But,  really,  there  is  in  this  statement 
something  so  extravagant  ;  so  perfectly  wild  ;  so  ridiculously 
and  staringly  untrue,  that  it  is  not  without  a  great  deal  of  difficulty 
that  all  my  respect  for  you  personally  can  subdue  in  me  the 
temptation  to  treat  it  with  the  contempt  due  to  its  intrinsic  de- 
merits. 

999.  I  shall  notice  only  a  few  of  the  items.  A  house,  you  say, 
"  exceedingly  convenient  and  comfortable,  together  with  farm- 
"  buildings,  may  be  built  for  1500  dollars."  Your  own  intended 
house  you  estimate  at  4500,  and  your  out-buildings  at  1500.  So 
that,  if  this  house  of  the  farmer  (an  English  farmer,  mind)  and  his 
buildings,  are  to  be  "  exceedingly  convenient  and  comfortable,''* 
for  1500  dollars,  your  house  and  buildings  must  be  on  a  scale, 
which,  if  not  perfectly  princely,  must  savour  a  good  deal  of 
aristocratical  distinction.  But,  this  if  relieves  us  ;  for  even  your 
house,  built  of  pine  timber  and  boards,  and  covered  with  cedar 
shingles,  and  finished  only  as  a  good  plain  farm-house  ought  to  be, 
will,  if  it  be  thirty-six  feet  front,  thirty-four  feet  deep,  two  rooms 
in  front,  kitchen,  and  wash-house  behind,  four  rooms  above,  and 
a  cellar  beneath  ;  yes,  this  house  alone,  the  bare  empty  house, 
with  doors  and  windows  suitable,  will  cost  you  more  than  six 
thousand  dollars.  I  state  this  upon  good  authority.  I  have  taken 
the  estimate  of  a  building  carpenter.  "  What  Carpenter  ?  " 
you  will  say.  Why,  a  Long  Island  carpenter,  and  the  house  to  be 
built  within  a  mile  of  Brooklyn,  or  two  miles  of  New  York.  And 
this  is  giving  you  all  the  advantage,  for  here  the  pine  is  cheaper 
than  with  you  ;  the  shingles  cheaper  ;  the  lime  and  stone  and 
brick  as  cheap  or  cheaper  ;  the  glass,  iron,  lead,  brass  and  tin, 
all  at  half  or  a  quarter  of  the  Prairie  price  :    and    as  to  labour, 

248 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


if  it  be  not  cheaper  here  than  with  you,  men  would  do  well  not  to 
go  so  far  in  search  of  high  wages  ! 

iooo.  Let  no  simple  Englishman  imagine  that  here,  at  and  near 
New  York,  in  this  dear  place,  we  have  to  pay  for  the  boards  and 
timber  brought  from  a  distance  :  and  that  you,  the  happy  people 
of  the  land  of  daisies  and  cowslips,  can  cut  down  your  own  good 
and  noble  oak  trees  upon  the  spot,  on  your  own  estates,  and  turn 
them  into  houses  without  any  carting.  Let  no  simple  Englishman 
believe  such  idle  stories  as  this.  To  dissipate  all  such  notions, 
I  have  only  to  tell  him,  that  the  American  farmers  on  this  island, 
when  they  have  buildings  to  make  or  repair,  go  and  purchase 
the  pine  timber  and  boards,  at  the  very  same  time  that  they  cut- 
down  their  own  oak  trees  and  cleave  up  and  burn  them  as  fire-wood  ! 
This  is  the  universal  practice  in  all  the  parts  of  America  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  What  is  the  cause  ?  Pine  wood  is  cheaper, 
though  bought,  than  the  oak  is  without  buying.  This  fact,  which 
nobody  can  deny,  is  a  complete  proof  that  you  gain  no  advantage 
from  being  in  woods,  as  far  as  building  is  concerned.  And  the 
truth  is,  that  the  boards  and  plank,  which  have  been  used  in  the 
Prairie,  have  actually  been  brought  from  the  Wabash,  charged  with 
ten  miles  rough  land  carriage  ;  how  far  they  may  have  come  down 
the  Wabash  I  cannot  tell. 

iooi.  Thus,  then,  the  question  is  settled  that  building  must  be 
cheaper  here  than  in  the  Illinois.  If,  therefore,  a  house,  36  by  34 
feet,  cost  here  6000  dollars,  what  can  a  man  get  there  for  1500 
dollars  ?  A  miserable  hole,  and  no  more.  But,  here  are  to  be 
farm-buildings  and  all,  in  the  1500  dollars'  worth  !  A  barn,  40 
feet  by  30,  with  floor,  and  with  stables  in  the  sides,  cannot  be 
built  for  1500  dollars,  leaving  out  waggon-house,  corn-crib,  cattle- 
hovels,  yard  fences,  pig-sties,  smoke  house,  and  a  great  deal  more  ! 
And  yet,  you  say,  that  all  these,  and  a  farm-house  into  the  bargain, 
all  "  exceedingly  comfortable  and  convenient,"  may  be  had  for  1500 
dollars  ! 

1002.  Now,  you  know,  my  dear  Sir,  that  this  is  said  in  the  face 
of  all  America.  Farmers  are  my  readers.  They  all  understand 
these  matters.  They  are  not  only  good,  but  impartial  judges  ■ 
and  I  call  upon  you  to  contradict,  or  even  question,  my  statements, 
if  you  can. 

1003  Do  my  eyes  deceive  me  ?  Or  do  I  really  see  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  put  down  as  the  expence  of  "  planting  one  thousand 
"  eight  hundred  rod  of  live  fence  ?  "  That  is  to  say,  nine  cents, 
or  four  pence  half -penny  sterling,  a  rod  !  What  plants  ?  Whence 
to  come  ?  Drawn  out  of  the  woods,  or  first  sown  in  a  nursery  ? 
Is  it  seed  to  be  sown  ?  Where  are  the  seeds  to  come  from  ?  No 
levelling  of  the  top  of  the  bank  ;  no  drill  ;  no  sowing  ;  no  keeping 
clean  for  a  year  or  two  :  or,  all  these  for  nine  cents  a  rod,  when  the 
same  works  cost  half  a  dollar  a  rod  in  England  ! 

1004.  Manure  too  !     And  do  you  really  want  manure  then  ? 
249 


LETTER  TO 


And,  where,  I  pray  you,  are  you  to  get  manure  for  ioo  acres  ? 
But,  supposing  you  to  have  it,  do  you  seriously  mean  to  tell  us 
that  you  will  carry  it  on  for  two  dollars  an  acre  ?  The  carrying 
on,  indeed,  might  perhaps  be  done  for  that,  but,  who  pays  for  the 
filling  and  for  the  spreading  ?  Ah  !  my  dear  Sir,  I  can  well 
imagine  your  feelings  at  putting  down  the  item  of  dung-carting, 
trifling  as  you  make  it  appear  upon  paper.  You  now  recollect 
my  words  when  I  last  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  in  Catherine 
Street,  a  few  days  before  the  departure  of  us  both.  I  then  dreaded 
the  dung-cart,  and  recommended  the  Tullian  System  to  you,  by 
which  you  would  have  the  same  crops  every  year,  without  manure  ; 
but,  unfortunately  for  my  advice,  you  sincerely  believed  your  land 
would  be  already  too  rich,  and  that  your  main  difficulty  would  be, 
not  to  cart  on  manure,  but  to  cart  off  the  produce  ! 

1005.  After  this,  it  appears  unnecessary  for  me  to  notice  any 
other  part  of  this  Transalleganian  romance,  which  I  might  leave 
to  the  admiration  of  the  Edinburgh  Reviewers,  whose  knowledge 
of  these  matters  is  quite  equal  to  what  they  have  discovered  as  to 
the  Funding  System  and  Paper  Money.  But  when  I  think  of  the 
flocks  of  poor  English  Farmers,  who  are  tramping  away  towards 
an  imaginary,  across  a  real  land  of  milk  and  honey,  I  cannot  lay 
down  the  pen,  till  I  have  noticed  an  item  or  two  of  the  produce. 

1006.  The  farmer  is  to  have  100  acres  of  Indian  corn,  the  first 
year.  The  minds  of  you  gentlemen  who  cross  the  Allegany 
seem  to  expand,  as  it  were,  to  correspond  with  the  extent  of  the 
horizon  that  opens  to  your  view  ;  but,  I  can  assure  you,  that  if 
you  were  to  talk  to  a  farmer  on  this  side  of  the  mountains  of  a  field 
of  Corn  of  a  hundred  acres  during  the  first  year  of  a  settlement, 
with  grassy  land  and  hands  scarce,  you  would  frighten  him  into 
a  third-day  ague.  In  goes  your  Corn,  however  !  "  Twenty 
"  more  :  kill  'em  !  "  Nothing  but  ploughing  :  no  harrowing  , 
no  marking  ;  and  only  a  horse-hoeing,  during  the  summer,  at 
a  dollar  an  acre.  The  planting  is  to  cost  only  a  quarter  of  a  dollar 
an  acre.  The  planting  will  cost  a  dollar  an  acre.  The  horse- 
hoeing  in  your  grassy  land,  two  dollars.  The  hand-hoeing,  which 
must  be  well  done,  or  you  will  have  no  corn,  two  dollars  :  for,  in 
spite  of  your  teeth,  your  rampant  natural  grass  will  be  up  before 
your  corn,  and  a  man  must  go  to  a  thousand  hills  to  do  half  an  acre 
a  day.  It  will  cost  two  dollars  to  harvest  a  hundred  bushels  of 
corn  ears.  So  that  here  are  about  400  dollars  of  expences  on  the 
Corn  alone,  to  be  added.  A  trifle,  to  be  sure,  when  we  are  looking 
through  the  Transalleganian  glass,  which  diminishes  out-goings 
and  magnifies  incomings.  However,  here  are  four  hundred 
dollars. 

1007.  In  goes  the  plough  for  wheat  ?  "In  him  again  !  Twenty 
"  more  !  "  But,  this  is  in  October,  mind.  Is  the  Corn  off  ?  It 
may  be  ;  but,  where  are  the  four  hundred  waggon  loads  of  corn 
stalks  ?  A  prodigiously  fine  thing  is  this  forest  of  fodder,  as  high 
and  as  thick  as  an  English  coppice.     But,  though  it  be  of  no  use 

250 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ, 


to  you,  who  have  the  meadows  without  bounds,  this  coppice  must 
be  removed,  if  you  please,  before  you  plough  for  wheat ! 

1008.  Let  us  pause  here,  then  ;  let  us  look  at  the  battalion, 
who  are  at  work  ;  for,  there  must  be  little  short  of  a  Hessian 
Battalion.  Twenty  men  and  twenty  horses  may  husk  the  Corn, 
cut  and  cart  the  stalks,  plough  and  sow  and  harrow  for  the  wheat ; 
twenty  two-legged  and  twenty  four-legged  animals  may  do  the 
work  in  the  proper  time  ;  but,  if  they  do  it,  they  must  work  well. 
Here  is  a  goodly  group  to  look  at,  for  an  English  Farmer,  without 
a  penny  in  his  pocket ;  for  all  his  money  is  gone  long  ago,  even 
according  to  your  own  estimate  ;  and,  here,  besides  the  expence 
of  cattle  and  tackle,  are  600  dollars,  in  bare  wages,  to  be  paid  in  a 
month!  You  and  I  both  have  forgotten  the  shelling  of  the  Corn, 
which,  and  putting  it  up,  will  come  to  50  dollars  more  at  the  least, 
leaving  the  price  of  the  barrel  to  be  paid  for  by  the  purchaser  of 
the  Corn. 

1009.  But,  what  did  I  say  ?  Shell  the  Corn  ?  It  must  go  into 
the  Cribs  first.  It  cannot  be  shelled  immediately.  And  it  must 
not  be  thrown  into  heaps.  It  must  be  put  into  Cribs.  I  have 
had  made  out  an  estimate  of  the  expence  of  the  Cribs  for  ten 
thousand  bushels  of  Corn  Ears  :  that  is  the  crop  ;  and  the  Cribs 
will  cost  570  dollars  !  Though,  mind,  the  farmer's  house,  barns, 
stables,  waggon-house,  and  all,  are  to  cost  but  1500  dollars  !  But, 
the  third  year,  our  poor  simpleton  is  to  have  200  acres  of  corn  ! 
"  Twenty  more  :   kill  'em  !  "     Another  570  dollars  for  Cribs  ! 

10 10.  However,  crops  now  come  tumbling  on  him  so  fast,  that 
he  must  struggle  hard  not  to  be  stifled  with  his  own  super- 
abundance. He  has  now  got  200  acres  of  corn  and  100  acres  of 
wheat,  which  latter  he  has,  indeed,  had  one  year  before  !  Oh, 
madness  !  But,  to  proceed.  To  get  in  these  crops  and  to  sow 
the  wheat,  first  taking  away  200  acres  of  English  coppice  in  stalks, 
will,  with  the  dunging  for  the  wheat,  require,  at  least,  fifty  good 
men,  and  forty  good  horses  or  oxen,  for  thirty  days.  Faith  !  when 
farmer  Simpleton  sees  all  this  (in  his  dreams  I  mean),  he  will 
think  himself  a  farmer  of  the  rank  of  Job,  before  Satan  beset  that 
example  of  patience,  so  worthy  of  imitation,  and  so  seldom 
imitated. 

ion.  Well,  but  Simpleton  must  bustle  to  get  in  his  wheat. 
In,  indeed  !  What  can  cover  it,  but  the  canopy  of  heaven  ?  A 
barn  !  It  will,  at  two  English  waggon  loads  of  sheaves  to  an  acre, 
require  a  barn  a  hundred  feet  long,  fifty  feet  wide,  and  twenty- 
three  feet  high  up  to  the  eaves  ;  and  this  barn,  with  two  proper 
floors,  will  cost  more  than  seven  thousand  dollars.  He  will  put 
it  in  stacks  :  let  him  add  six  men  to  his  battalion  then.  He  will 
thrash  it  in  the  field  :  let  him  add  ten  more  men  !  Let  him,  at 
once,  send  and  press  the  Harmonites  into  his  service,  and  make 
Rapp  march  at  their  head,  for,  never  will  he  by  any  other  means 
get  in  the  crop  ;  and,  even  then,  if  he  pay  fair  wages,  he  will  lose 

t>y  it. 

251 


LETTER  TO 


1012.  After  the  crop  is  in  and  the  seed  sown,  in  the  fall,  what  is 
to  become  of  Simpleton's  men  till  Corn  ploughing  and  planting 
time  in  the  spring  ?  And,  then,  when  the  planting  is  done, 
what  is  to  become  of  them  till  harvest  time  ?  Is  he,  like  Bayes, 
in  the  Rehearsal,  to  lay  them  down  when  he  pleases,  and  when  he 
pleases  make  them  rise  up  again  ?  To  hear  you  talk  about  these 
crops,  and,  at  other  times  to  hear  you  advising  others  to  bring 
labourers  from  England,  one  would  think  you,  for  your  own  part, 
able,  like  Cadmus,  to  make  men  start  up  out  of  the  earth.  How 
would  one  ever  have  thought  it  possible  for  infatuation  like  this 
to  seize  hold  of  a  mind  like  yours  ? 

1 013.  When  I  read  in  your  Illinois  Letters,  that  you  had  pre- 
pared horses,  ploughs,  and  other  things,  for  putting  in  a  hundred 
acres  of  Corn  in  the  Spring,  how  I  pitied  you  !  I  saw  all  your 
plagues,  if  you  could  not  see  them.  I  saw  the  grass  choking  your 
plants  ;  the  grubs  eating  them  ;  and  you  fretting  and  turning 
from  the  sight  with  all  the  pangs  of  sanguine  baffled  hope.  I 
expected  you  to  have  ten  bushels,  instead  of  fifty,  upon  an  acre. 
I  saw  your  confusion,  and  participated  in  your  mortification. 
From  these  feelings  I  was  happily  relieved  by  the  Journal  of  our 
friend  Hulme,  who  informs  the  world,  and  our  countrymen  in 
particular,  that  you  had  not,  in  July  last,  any  Corn  at  all  growing  ! 

1014.  Thus  it  is  to  reckon  one's  chickens  before  they  are  hatched: 
and  thus  the  Transalleganian  dream  vanishes.  You  have  been 
deceived.  A  warm  heart,  a  lively  imagination,  and  I  know  not 
what  caprice  about  republicanism,  have  led  you  into  sanguine 
expectations  and  wrong  conclusions.  Come,  now  !  Confess  it 
like  yourself  ;  that  is,  like  a  man  of  sense  and  spirit  :  like  an  honest 
and  fair-dealing  John  Bull.  To  err  belongs  to  all  men,  great  as 
well  as  little  ;  but,  to  be  ashamed  to  confess  error,  belongs  only 
to  the  latter. 

1015.  Great  as  is  my  confidence  in  your  candour,  I  can,  how- 
ever, hardly  hope  wholly  to  escape  your  anger  for  having  so 
decidedly  condemned  your  publications  ;  but,  I  do  hope,  that 
you  will  not  be  so  unjust  as  to  impute  my  conduct  to  any  base 
self-interested  motive.  I  have  no  private  interest,  I  can  have  no 
such  interest  in  endeavouring  to  check  the  mad  torrent  towards 
the  West.  I  own  nothing  in  these  States,  and  never  shall  ;  and 
whether  English  Farmers  push  on  into  misery  and  ruin,  or  stop 
here  in  happiness  and  prosperity,  to  me,  as  far  as  private  interest 
goes,  it  must  be  the  same.  As  to  the  difference  in  our  feelings 
and  notions  about  country,  about  allegiance,  and  about  forms  of 
government,  this  may  exist  without  any,  even  the  smallest  degree 
of  personal  dislike.  I  was  no  hypocrite  in  England  ;  I  had  no 
views  farther  than  those  which  I  professed.  I  wanted  nothing 
for  myself  but  the  fruit  of  my  own  industry  and  talent,  and  I 
wished  nothing  for  my  country  but  its  liberties  and  laws,  which 
say,  that  the  people  shall  he  fairly  represented.  England  has  been 
very  happy  and  free  :  her  greatness  and  renown  have  been  sur- 

252 


MORRIS  BlRKBECK,  ESQ, 


passed  by  those  of  no  nation  in  the  world  ;  her  wise,  just,  and 
merciful  laws  form  the  basis  of  that  freedom  which  we  here  enjoy, 
she  has  been  fertile  beyond  all  rivalship  in  men  of  learning  and 
men  devoted  to  the  cause  of  freedom  and  humanity  ;  her  people, 
though  proud  and  domineering,  yield  to  no  people  in  the  world 
in  frankness,  good  faith,  sincerity,  and  benevolence  :  and  I  cannot 
but  know,  that  this  state  of  things  has  existed,  and  that  this  people 
has  been  formed,  under  a  government  of  king,  lords,  and  com- 
mons. Having  this  powerful  argument  of  experience  before  me, 
and  seeing  no  reason  why  the  thing  should  be  otherwise,  I  have 
never  wished  for  republican  government  in  England  ;  though, 
rather  than  that  the  present  tyrannical  oligarchy  should  continue 
to  trample  on  king  and  people,  I  would  gladly  see  the  whole  fabric 
torn  to  atoms,  and  trust  to  chance  for  something  better,  being 
sure  that  nothing  could  be  worse.  But,  if  I  am  not  a  republican  ; 
if  I  think  my  duty  towards  England  indefeasible  ;  if  I  think  that 
it  becomes  me  to  abstain  from  any  act  which  shall  seem  to  say  I 
abandon  her,  and  especially  in  this  her  hour  of  distress  and  op- 
pression ;  and,  if,  in  all  these  points,  I  differ  from  you,  I  trust 
that  to  this  difference  no  part  of  the  above  strictures  will  be 
imputed,  but  that  the  motive  will  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  act, 
and  not  the  act  imputed  unfairly  to  any  motive.  I  am,  my  dear 
Sir,  with  great  respect  for  your  talents  as  well  as  character, 

Your  most  obedient 

And  most  humble  servant, 

Wm.  cobbett. 


!53 


TO 

MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  Esq., 

OF 
ENGLISH  PRAIRIE,  ILLINOIS  TERRITORY. 


LETTER  II. 

North  Hempstead,  Long  Island, 
iSth  Dec.  1818. 
My  dear  Sir, 

1 01 6.  Being,  when  I  wrote  my  former  Letter  to  you,  in  great 
haste  to  conclude,  in  order  that  my  son  William  might  take  it  to 
England  with  him,  I  left  unnoticed  many  things,  which  I  had 
observed  in  your  "  Letters  from  the  Illinois  "  ;  and  which  things 
merited  pointed  notice.  Some  of  these  I  will  notice  ;  for,  I  wish 
to  discharge  all  my  duties  towards  my  countrymen  faithfully  ; 
and,  I  know  of  no  duty  more  sacred,  than  that  of  warning  them 
against  pecuniary  ruin  and  mental  misery. 

1017.  It  has  always  been  evident  to  me,  that  the  Western 
Countries  were  not  the  countries  for  English  farmers  to  settle 
in  :  no,  nor  for  American  farmers,  unless  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances. The  settlers,  who  have  gone  from  the  New  England 
States,  have,  in  general,  been  able  men  with  families  of  stout  sons. 
The  contracted  farm  in  New  England  sells  for  money  enough  to 
buy  the  land  for  five  or  six  farms  in  the  West.  These  farms  are 
made  by  the  labour  of  the  owners.  They  hire  nobody.  They  live 
any  how  for  a  while.  I  will  engage  that  the  labour  performed  by 
one  stout  New  England  family  in  one  year,  would  cost  an  English 
farmer  a  thousand  pounds  in  wages.  You  will  say,  why  cannot  the 
English  labour  as  hard  as  the  Yankees  ?  But,  mind,  I  talk  of  a 
family  of  Yankee  sons  :  and,  besides,  I  have  no  scruple  to  say, 
that  one  of  these  will  do  as  much  work  in  the  clearing  and  fencing 

255 


LETTER  fO 


of  a  farm,  and  in  the  erection  of  buildings,  as  four  or  five  English 
of  the  same  age  and  size.  Yet,  have  many  of  the  New  England 
farmers  returned.  Even  they  have  had  cause  to  repent  of  their 
folly.  What  hope  is  there,  then,  that  English  farmers  will 
succeed  ? 

1018.  It  so  happens,  that  J  have  seen  new  settlements  formed. 
I  have  seen  lands  cleared.  I  have  seen  crowds  of  people  coming 
and  squatting  down  in  woods  or  little  islands,  and  by  the  sides  of 
rivers.  I  have  seen  the  log-hut  raised  ;  the  bark  covering  put 
on  ;  I  have  heard  the  bold  language  of  the  adventurers  ;  and  I 
have  witnessed  their  subsequent  miseries.  They  were  just  as 
free  as  you  are  ;  for,  they,  like  you,  saw  no  signs  of  the  existence 
of  any  government,  good  or  bad. 

1010.  New  settlements,  particularly  at  so  great  a  distance  from 
all  the  conveniences  and  sweeteners  of  life,  must  be  begun  by 
people  who  labour  for  themselves.  Money  is,  in  such  a  case,  almost 
useless.  It  is  impossible  to  believe,  that,  after  your  statement 
about  your  intended  hundred  acres  of  Indian  corn,  you  would  not 
have  had  it,  or,  at  least,  a  part  of  it,  if  you  could  :  that  is  to  say,  if 
money  would  have  got  it.  Yet  you  had  not  a  single  square  rod. 
Mr.  Hulme,  (See  Journal,  28th  July)  says,  in  the  way  of  reason 
for  your  having  no  crops  this  year,  that  you  could  purchase  with 
more  economy  than  you  could,  grow  !  Indeed  !  what ;  would 
the  Indian  Corn  have  cost,  then,  more  than  the  price  of  the  Corn  ? 
Untoward  observation  ;  but  perfectly  true,  I  am  convinced. 
There  is,  it  is  my  opinion,  nobody  that  can  raise  Indian  Corn  or 
Grain  at  so  great  a  distance  from  a  market  to  any  profit  at  all  with 
hired  labour.  Nay,  this  is  too  plain  a  case  to  be  matter  of  opinion. 
I  may  safely  assume  it  as  an  indisputable  fact.  For,  it  being 
notorious,  that  labour  is  as  high  priced  with  you  as  with  us,  and 
your  statement  shewing  that  Corn  is  not  much  more  than  one 
third  of  our  price,  how  monstrous,  if  you  gain  at  all,  must  be  the 
Consumers'  gains  here  !  The  rent  of  the  land  here  is  a  mere 
trifle  more  than  it  must  be  there,  for  the  cultivated  part  must  pay 
rent  for  the  uncultivated  part.  The  labour,  indeed,  as  all  the 
world  knows,  is  every  thing.  All  the  other  expences  are  not 
worth  speaking  of.  What,  then,  must  be  the  gains  of  the  Long 
Island  farmer,  who  sells  his  corn  at  a  dollar  a  bushel,  if  you,  with 
labour  at  the  Long  Island  price,  can  gain  by  selling  Corn  at  the 
rate  of  five  bushels  for  two  dollars  !  If  yours  be  a  fine  country  for 
English  farmers  to  migrate  to,  what  must  this  be  ?  You  want  no 
manure.  This  cannot  last  long  ;  and,  accordingly,  I  see,  that  you 
mean  to  dung  for  wheat  after  the  second  crop  of  Corn.  This  is 
another  of  the  romantic  stories  exposed.  In  Letter  IV  you  relate 
the  romance  of  manure  being  useless  :  but,  in  Letter  X,  you  tell  us, 
that  you  propose  to  use  it.  Land  bearing  crops  without  a  manure, 
or,  with  new-culture  and  constant  ploughing,  is  a  romance.  This 
I  told  you  in  London  ;  and  this  you  have  found  to  be  true. 

1020.  It  is  of  little  consequence  what  wild  schemes  are  formed 

256 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


and  executed  by  men  who  have  property  enough  to  carry  them 
back  :  but,  to  invite  men  to  go  to  the  Illinois  with  a  few  score  of 
pounds  in  their  pockets,  and  to  tell  them,  that  they  can  become 
farmers  with  those  pounds,  appears  to  me  to  admit  of  no  other 
apology  than  an  unequivocal  acknowledgment,  that  the  inviter 
is  mad.  Yet  your  fifteenth  Letter  from  the  Illinois  really  contains 
such  an  invitation.  This  letter  is  manifestly  addressed  to  an 
imaginary  person.  It  is  clear  that  the  correspondent  is  a  feigned, 
or  supposed,  being.  The  letter  is,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I  think,  a 
mere  trap  to  catch  poor  creatures  with  a  few  pounds  in  their 
pockets.  I  will  here  take  the  libeity  to  insert  the  whole  of  this 
letter  ;  and  will  then  endeavour  to  show  the  misery  which  it  is 
calculated  to  produce,  not  only  amongst  English  people,  but 
amongst  Americans  who  may  chance  to  read  it,  and  who  are  now 
living  happily  in  the  Atlantic  States.  The  letter  is  dated,  24th 
of  February >  1818,  and  the  following  are  its  words  : 

1021.  "  Dear  Sir, — When  a  man  gives  advice  to  his  friends, 
"  on  affairs  of  great  importance  to  their  interest,  he  takes  on  him- 
"  self  a  load  of  responsibility,  from  which  I  have  always  shrunk, 
"  and  generally  withdrawn.  My  example  is  very  much  at  their 
"  service,  either  for  imitation  or  warning,  as  the  case  may  be.  I 
"  must,  however,  in  writing  to  you,  step  a  little  over  this  line  of 
"  caution,  having  more  than  once  been  instrumental  in  helping 
"  you,  not  out  of  your  difficulties,  but  from  one  scene  of  perplexity 
"  to  another  ;  I  cannot  help  advising  you  to  make  an  effort  more, 
"  and  extricate  yourself  and  family  completely,  by  removing  into 
"  this  country. — When  I  last  saw  you,  twelve  months  ago,  I  did 
"  not  think  favourably  of  your  prospects  :  if  things  have  turned  out 
"  better,  I  shall  be  rejoiced  to  hear  it,  and  you  will  not  need  the 
"  advice  I  am  preparing  for  you.  But,  if  vexation  and  disappoint- 
"  ments  have  assailed  you,  as  I  feared,  and  you  can  honourably 
"  make  your  escape,  with  the  means  of  transmitting  yourself 
"  hither,  and  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  to  spare — don't 
"  hesitate.  In  six  months  after  I  shall  have  welcomed  you, 
"  barring  accidents,  you  shall  discover  that  you  are  become  rich, 
"  for  you  shall  feel  that  you  are  independent  :  and  I  think  that 
"  will  be  the  most  delightful  sensation  you  ever  experienced  ; 
"  for,  you  will  receive  it  multiplied,  as  it  were,  by  the  number 
"  of  your  family  as  your  troubles  now  are.  It  is  not,  however, 
"  a  sort  of  independence  that  will  excuse  you  from  labour,  or 
"  afford  you  many  luxuries,  that  is,  costly  luxuries.  I  will  state 
"  to  you  what  I  have  learned,  from  a  good  deal  of  observation  and 
"  inquiry,  and  a  little  experience  ;  then  you  will  form  your  own 
"  judgment.  In  the  first  place,  the  voyage.  That  will  cost  you, 
"  to  Baltimore  or  Philadelphia,  provided  you  take  it,  as  no  doubt 
"  you  would,  in  the  cheapest  way,  twelve  guineas  each,  for  a  birth, 
"  fire,  and  water,  for  yourself  and  wife,  and  half  price,  or  less,- for 
w  your  children,  besides  provisions,  which  you  will  furnish. 
"  Then  the  journey.     Over  the  mountains  to  Pittsburgh,  down 

257 


LETTER  TO 


"  the  Ohio  to  Shawnee  Town,  and  from  thence  to  our  settle- 
"  ment,  fifty  miles  north,  will  amount  to  five  pounds  sterling  per 
"  head. — If  you  arrive  here  as  early  as  May,  or  even  June,  another 
"  five  pounds  per  head  will  carry  you  on  to  that  point,  where  you 
"  may  take  your  leave  of  dependence  on  any  thing  earthly  but  your 
"  own  exertions. — At  this  time  I  suppose  you  to  have  remaining 
':  one  hundred  pounds  (borrowed  probably  from  English  friends, 
"  who  rely  on  your  integrity,  and  who  may  have  directed  the 
"  interest  to  be  paid  to  me  on  their  behalf,  and  the  principal  in 
"  due  season.) — We  will  now,  if  you  please,  turn  it  into  dollars, 
"  and  consider  how  it  may  be  disposed  of.  A  hundred  pounds 
"  sterling  will  go  a  great  way  in  dollars.  With  eighty  dollars  you 
"  will  enter  a  quarter  section  of  land  ;  that  is,  you  will  purchase 
"  at  the  land-office  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres,  and  pay  one- 
"  fourth  of  the  purchase  money,  and  looking  to  the  land  to  reward 
"  your  pains  with  the  means  of  discharging  the  other  three-fourths 
"  as  they  become  due,  in  two,  three,  and  four  years. — 'You  will 
"  build  a  house  with  fifty  dollars  ;  and  you  will  find  it  extremely 
"  comfortable  and  convenient,  as  it  will  be  really  and  truly  yours. 
"  Two  horses  will  cost,  with  harness  and  plough,  one  hundred. — 
"  Cows,  and  hogs,  and  seed  corn,  and  fencing,  with  other  expenses, 
"  will  require  the  remaining  two  hundred  and  ten  dollars. — This 
"  beginning,  humble  as  it  appears,  is  affluence  and  splendour, 
"  compared  with  the  original  outfit  of  settlers  in  general.  Yet 
"  no  man  remains  in  poverty,  who  possesses  even  moderate 
"  industry  and  economy,  and  especially  of  time. — You  would  of 
"  course  bring  with  you  your  sea-bedding  and  store  of  blankets, 
"  for  you  will  need  them  on  the  Ohio  ;  and  you  should  leave 
"  England  with  a  good  stock  of  wearing  apparel.  Your  luggage 
"  must  be  composed  of  light  articles  on  account  of  the  costly 
"  land-carriage  from  the  Eastern  port  to  Pittsburgh,  which  will 
"  be  from  seven  to  ten  dollars  per  ioo  Jbs.,  nearly  sixpence  sterling 
"  per  pound.  A  few  simple  medicines  of  good  quality  are  indis- 
"  pensable,  such  as  calomel,  bark  in  powder,  castor  oil,  calcined 
"  magnesia,  laudanum  ;  they  may  be  of  the  greatest  importance 
"  on  the  voyage  and  journey,  a?  well  as  after  your  arrival. — Change 
"  of  climate  and  situation  will  produce  temporary  indisposition, 
"  but  with  prompt  and  judicious  treatment,  which  is  happily 
"  of  the  most  simple  kind,  the  complaints  to  which  new  comers 
"  are  liable  are  seldom  dangerous  or  difficult  to  overcome,  pro- 
"  vided  due  regard  has  been  had  to  salubrity  in  the  choice  of  their 
"  settlement,  and  to  diet  and  accommodation  after  their  arrival. 

"  With  best  regards,   I  remain,  &c." 

1 022.  Now,  my  dear  sir,  your  mode  of  address,  in  this  letter, 
clearly  shews  that  you  have  in  your  eye  a  person  above  the  level 
of  common  labourers.  The  words  "  Dear  Sir  "  indicate  that  you 
are  speaking  to  a  frietid,  or,  at  least,  to  an  intimate  acquaintance  : 

258 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ, 


of  course  to  a  person,  who  has  not  been  brought  up  in  the  habits 
of  hard  labour.  And  such  a  person  it  is,  whom  you  advise  and 
press  to  come  to  the  Illinois  with  a  hundred  pounds  in  his  pocket 
to  become  a.  farmer  ! 

1023.  I  will  pass  over  the  expences  previous  to  this  unfortunate 
man  and  his  family's  arriving  at  the  Prairies,  though  those  expences 
will  be  double  the  amount  that  you  state  them  at.  But  he  arrives 
with  450  dollars  in  his  pocket.  Of  these  he  is  to  pay  down  86 
for  his  land,  leaving  three  times  that  sum  to  be  paid  afterwards. 
He  has  370  left.  And  now  what  is  he  to  do  ?  He  arrives  in 
May.  So  that  this  family  has  to  cross  the  sea  in  winter,  and  the 
land  in  spring.  There  they  are,  however,  and  now  what  are  they 
to  do  ?  Thev  are  to  have  built  for  50  dollars  a  house  "  EX- 
"TREMELY  COMFORTABLE  AND  CONVENIENT:"— 
the  very  words  that  you  use  in  describing  the  farmer's  house, 
that  was  to  cost,  with  out-buildings,  1500  dollars  !  However, 
you  have  described  your  own  cabin  whence  we  may  gather  the 
meaning  which  you  attach  to  the  word  comfortable.  "  This  cabin 
"  is  built  of  round  straight  logs,  about  a  foot  in  diameter,  laying 
"  upon  each  other,  and  notched  in  at  the  corners,  forming  a  room 
<v  eighteen  feet  long  by  sixteen  ;  the  intervals  between  the  logs 
"  '  chunked,'  that  is,  filled  in  with  slips  of  wood  ;  and  '  mudded,' 
"  that  is,  daubed  with  a  plaister  of  mud  ;  a  spacious  chimney, 
"  built  also  of  logs,  stands  like  a  bastion  at  one  end  ;  the  roof  is  well 
"  covered  with  four  hun  1red  '  clap  boards  '  of  cleft  oak,  very 
"  much  like  the  pales  used  in  England  for  fencing  parks.  A 
"  hole  is  cut  through  the  side  called,  very  properly,  the  '  through,' 
"  for  which  there  is  a  '  shutter,'  made  also  of  cleft  oak,  and  hung 
"  on  wooden  hinges.  All  this  has  been  executed  by  contract,  and 
"  well  executed,  for  tzventy  dollars.  I  have  since  added  ten  dollars 
"  to  the  cost,  for  the  luxury  of  a  floor  and  ceiling  of  sawn  boards, 
"  and  it  is  now  a  comfortable  habitation." 

1024.  In  plain  words,  this  is  a  log-hut,  such  as  the  free  negroes 
live  in  about  here,  and  a  hole  it  is,  fit  only  for  dogs,  or  hogs,  or 
cattle.  Worse  it  is  than  the  negro  huts  ;  for  they  have  a  bit  of 
glass  :  but  here  is  none.  This  miserable  hole,  black  with  smoke 
as  it  always  must  be,  and  without  any  window,  costs,  however,  30 
dollars  And  yet  this  English  acquaintance  of  yours  is  to  have 
"  a  house  extremely  comfortable  and  convenient  for  fifty  dollars." 
Perhaps  his  50  dollars  might  get  him  a  hut,  or  hole,  a  few  feet 
longer  and  divided  into  two  dens.  So  that  here  is  to  be  cooking, 
washing,  eating,  and  sleeping  all  in  the  same  "  extremely  con- 
"  venient  and  comfortable  "  hole  i  And  yet.  my  dear  Sir  you 
find  fault  of  the  want  of  cleanliness  in  the  Americans  !  You  have 
not  seen  "  the  Americans."  You  have  not  seen  the  nice,  clean, 
neat  houses  of  the  farmers  in  this  Island,  in  New  England,  in  the 
Quaker  counties  of  Pennsylvania.  You  have  seen  nothing  but  the 
smoke-dried  Ultra-montanians  ;  and  your  project  seems  to  be  to 
make  the  deluded  English  who  may  follow  you  rivals  in  the 

259 


LETTER  TO 


attainment  of  the  tawny  colour.  What  is  this  family  to  do  in  their 
50  dollar  den  t  Suppose  one  or  more  of  them  sick  !  How  are 
the  rest  to  sleep  by  night  or  to  eat  by  day  ? 

1025.  However,  here  they  are,  in  this  miserable  place,  with 
the  ship-bedding,  and  without  even  a  bedstead,  and  with  130 
dollars  gone  in  land  and  house.  Two  horses  and  harness  and  plough 
are  to  cost  100  dollars  !  These,  like  the  hinges  of  the  door,  are 
all  to  be  of  wood  I  suppose  ;  for  as  to  flesh  and  blood  and  bones  in 
the  form  of  two  horses  for  100  dollars  is  impossible,  to  say  nothing 
about  the  plough  and  harness,  which  would  cost  20  dollars  of  the 
money.  Perhaps,  however,  you  may  mean  some  of  those  horses, 
ploughs  and  sets  of  harness,  which,  at  the  time  when  you  wrote 
this  letter,  you  '-  ad  all  ready  waiting  for  the  spring  to  put  in  your 
hundred  acres  of  corn  that  was  never  put  in  at  all  !  However,  let 
this  pass  too.  Then  there  are  220  dollars  left,  and  these  are  to 
provide  cows,  hogs,  seed,  corn,  fencing,  and  other  expences.  Next 
come  two  cows  (poor  ones)  24  dollars  ;  hogs,  15  dollars  ;  seed 
corn,  5  dollars  ;  fencing,  suppose  20  acres  only,  in  four  plots,  the 
stuff  brought  from  the  woods  nearest  adjoining.  Here  are  360 
rods  of  fencing,  and,  if  it  be  done  so  as  to  keep  out  a  pig,  and  to 
keep  in  a  pig,  or  a  horse  or  cow,  for  less  than  half  a  dollar  a  rod, 
I  will  suffer  myself  to  be  made  into  smoked  meat  in  the  extremely 
comfortable  house.  Thus,  then,  here  are  213  out  of  the  220 
dollars,  and  this  happy  settler  has  seven  whole  dollars  left  for  all 
"  other  expences  "  :  amongst  which  are  the  cost  of  cooking  utensils, 
plates,  knives  and  forks,  tables,  and  stools  ;  for.  as  to  table-cloths 
and  chairs,  those  are  luxuries  unbecoming  "  simple  republicans." 
But,  there  must  be  a  pot  to  boil  in  ;  or,  is  that  too  much  ?  May 
these  republicans  have  a  washing  tub  ?  Perhaps,  indeed,  it  will 
become  unnecessary  in  a  short  time  ;  for,  the  lice  will  have  eaten 
up  the  linen  ;  and,  besides,  perhaps  real  independence  means 
stark  nakedness.  But,  at  any  rate,  the  hogs  must  have  a  trough  : 
or,  are  they  to  eat  at  the  same  board  with  the  family  ?  Talking 
of  eating  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  great  article  ;  for  what  are  the  family 
to  eat  during  the  year  and  more  before  their  land  can  produce  ? 
For  even  if  they  arrive  in  May,  they  can  have  no  crop  that  year. 
Why,  they  must  graze  with  the  cows  in  the  Prairies,  or  snuggle 
with  the  hogs  in  the  woods.  An  oven  I  Childish  effeminacy  ! 
Oh  !  unleavened  bread  for  your  life.  Bread,  did  I  say  ?  Where 
is  the  "  independent  "  family  to  get  bread  ?  Oh  !  no  !  Grass 
and  Acorns  and  Roots  ;  and,  God  be  praised,  you  have  plenty  of 
water  in  your  wells,  though,  perhaps,  the  family,  with  all  their 
"  independence,"  must  be  compelled  to  depend  on  your  leave  to 
get  it,  and  fetch  it  half  a  mile  into  the  bargain. 

1026.  To  talk  seriously  upon  such  a  subject  is  impossible, 
without  dealing  in  terms  of  reprobation,  which  it  would  give  me 
great  pain  to  employ  when  speaking  of  any  act  of  yours.  Indeed 
such  a  family  will  be  free  :  but,  the  Indians  are  free,  and  so  are 
the  gypsies  in  {England.     And  I  most  solemnly  declare,  that|I 

260 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


would  sooner  live  the  life  of  a  gypsy  in  England,  than  be  a  settler, 
with  less  than  five  thousand  pounds,  in  the  Illinois  ;  and,  if  I  had 
the  five  thousand  pounds,  and  was  resolved  to  exchange  England 
for  America,  what  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  should  induce 
me  to  go  into  a  wild  country,  when  I  could  buy  a  good  farm  of 
200  acres,  with  fine  orchard  and  good  house  and  out-buildings, 
and  stock  it  completely,  and  make  it  rich  as  a  garden,  within  twenty 
miles  of  a  great  sea-port,  affording  me  a  ready  market  and  a  high 
price  for  every  article  of  my  produce  ? 

1027.  You  have,  by  this  lime,  seen  more  than  you  had  seen, 
when  you  wrote  your  "  Letters  from  the  Illinois."  You  would 
not,  I  am  convinced,  write  such  letters  now.  But,  lest  you  should 
not  do  it,  it  is  right  that  somebody  should  counteract  their  delusive 
effects  ;  and  this  I  endeavour  to  do  as  much  for  the  sake  of  this 
country  as  for  that  of  my  own  countrymen.  For  a  good  while  I 
remained  silent,  hoping  that  few  people  would  be  deluded  ;  but 
when  I  heard,  that  an  old  friend,  and  brother  sportsman  ;  a 
sensible,  honest,  frank,  and  friendly  man,  in  Oxfordshire,  whom 
I  will  not  name,  had  been  seized  with  the  Illinois  madness,  and 
when  I  recollected,  that  he  was  one  of  those,  who  came  to  "visit 
me  in  prison,  I  could  no  longer  hold  my  tongue  ;  for,  if  a  man  like 
him  ;  a  man  of  his  sound  understanding,  could  be  carried  away 
by  your  representations,  to  what  an  extent  must  the  rage  have 
gone  ! 

1028.  Mr.  Hulme  visited  you  with  the  most  friendly  feelings. 
He  agrees  with  you  perfectly  as  to  notions  about  forms  of  govern- 
ment. He  wished  to  give  a  good  account  of  your  proceedings. 
His  account  is  favourable  ;  but,  his  facts,  which  I  am  sure  are 
true,  let  out  what  I  could  not  have  known  for  certainty  from  any 
other  quarter.  However,  I  do  not  care  a  farthing  for  the  degrees 
of  goodness  or  of  badness  ;  I  say  all  new  countries  are  all  badness 
for  English  farmers.  I  say,  that  their  place  is  near  the  great  cities 
on  the  coast  ;  and  that  every  step  they  go  beyond  forty  miles  from 
those  cities  is  a  step  too  far.  They  want  freedom  :  they  have  it 
here.  They  want  good  land,  good  roads,  good  markets  :  they 
have  them  all  here.  What  should  they  run  rambling  about  a 
nation-making  for  ?  What  have  they  to  do  about  extending 
dominion  and  "  taming  the  wilderness  ?  "  If  they  speculate 
upon  becoming  founders  of  republics,  they  will,  indeed,  do  well 
to  get  out  of  the  reach  of  rivals.  If  they  have  a  thirst  for  power, 
they  will  naturally  seek  to  be  amongst  the  least  informed  part  of 
mankind.  But,  if  they  only  want  to  keep  their  property  and  live 
well,  they  will  take  up  their  abode  on  this  side  of  the  mountains 
at  least. 

1029.  The  grand  ideas:  about  the  extension  of  the  empire  of  the 
United  States  are  of  very  questionable  soundness  :  and  they 
become  more  questionable  from  being  echoed  by  the  Edinburgh 
Reviewers,  a  set  of  the  meanest  politicians  that  ever  touched  pen 
and  paper.     Upon  any  great  question,  they  never  have    been 

261 


LETTER  TO 


right,  even  by  accident,  which  is  very  hard  !  The  rapid  extension 
of  settlements  to  the  West  of  the  mountains  is,  in  my  opinion,  by 
no  means  favourable  to  the  duration  of  the  present  happy  Union. 
The  conquest  of  Canada  would  have  been  as  dangerous  ;  but  no 
more  dangerous.  A  nation  is  never  so  strong  and  so  safe  as  when 
its  extreme  points  feel  for  each  other  as  acutely  as  each  feels  for 
itself  ;  and  this  never  can  be  when  all  are  not  equally  exposed  to 
every  danger  ;  and  especially  when  all  the  parts  have  not  the  same 
interests.  In  case  of  a  war  with  England,  what  would  become  of 
your  market  down  the  Mississippi  ?  That  is  your  sole  market. 
That  way  your  produce  must  go  ;  or  you  must  dress  yourself  in 
skins  and  tear  your  food  to  bits  with  your  hands.  Yet  that  way 
your  produce  could  not  go,  unless  this  nation  were  to  keep  up  a 
Navy  equal  to  that  of  England.  Defend  the  country  against 
invaders  I  know  the  people  always  will  ;  but,  I  am  not  sure,  that 
they  will  like  internal  taxes  sufficient  to  rear  and  support  a  navy 
sufficient  to  clear  the  gulph  of  Mexico  of  English  squadrons. 
In  short,  it  is  my  decided  opinion,  that  the  sooner  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio,  the  Wabash,  and  the  Mississippi  are  pretty  thickly 
settled,  the  sooner  the  Union  will  be  placed  in  jeopardy.  If  a  war 
were  to  break  out  with  England,  even  in  a  few  years,  the  lands  of 
which  the  Mississippi  is  the  outlet,  would  lose  a  great  part  of  their 
value.  Who  does  not  see  in  this  fact  a  great  cause  of  disunion  ? 
On  this  side  the  mountains,  there  are  twelve  hundred  miles  of 
coast  to  blockade  ;  but  you,  gentlemen  Prairie  owners,  are  like  a 
rat  that  has  but  one  hole  to  go  out  and  to  come  in  at.  You  express 
your  deep-rooted  attachment  to  your  adopted  country,  and  I  am 
sure  you  are  sincere  ;  but,  still  I  may  be  allowed  to  doubt,  whether 
you  would  cheerfully  wear  bear-skins,  and  gnaw  your  meat  off 
the  bones  for  the  sake  of  any  commercial  right  that  the  nation 
might  go  to  war  about.  I  know  that  you  would  not  starve  :  for 
coffee  and  tea  are  not  necessary  to  man's  existence  ;  but,  you 
would  like  to  sell  your  flour  and  pork,  and  would  be  very  apt  to 
discover  reasons  against  a  war  that  would  prevent  you  from  selling 
them  You  appear  to  think  it  very  wicked  in  the  Atlantic  People 
to  feel  little  eagerness  in  promoting  the  increase  of  population  to 
the  Westward  ;  but,  you  see,  that,  in  this  want  of  such  eagerness, 
they  may  be  actuated  by  a  real  love  for  their  country.  For  my 
part,  I  think  it  would  have  been  good  policy  in  the  Congress  not 
to  dispose  of  the  Western  Lands  at  all  ;  and  I  am  sure  it  would 
have  been  an  act  of  real  charity. 

1030.  Having  now  performed  what  I  deemed  my  duty  towards 
my  countrymen,  and  tov/ards  this  country  too,  I  will  conclude  my 
letter  with  a  few  observations,  relative  to  mills,  which  may  be  of 
use  to  you  :  for,  I  know,  that  you  will  go  on  :  and,  indeed,  I  most 
sincerely  wish  you  all  the  success  that  you  can  wish  yourself, 
without  doing  harm  to  others. 

1 03 1.  You  have  no  mill  streams  near  you  ;  and  you  are  about  to 
erect  a  wind-mill.     Man  is  naturally  prone  to  call  to  his  aid  what- 

262 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


ever  will  save  his  bones  labour.  The  water,  the  wind,  the  fire  ; 
any  thing  that  will  help  him.  Cattle  of  some  sort  or  other  were, 
for  a  long  while,  his  great  resource.  But,  of  late,  water-powers, 
wind-powers,  fire-powers.  And,  indeed,  wondrous  things  have 
been  performed  by  machines  of  this  kind.  The  water  and  the 
wind  do  not  eat,  and  require  no  grooming.  But,  it  sometimes 
happens,  that,  when  all  things  are  considered,  we  resort  to  these 
grand  powers  without  any  necessity  for  it  ;  and  that  we  forget 
how  easily  we  could  do  the  thing  we  want  done,  with  our  own 
hands.  The  story,  in  Peregrine  Pickle,  about  the  Mechanic, 
who  had  invented  a  water  machine  to  cut  off  the  head  of  a  cabbage, 
hardly  surpassed  the  reality  in  the  case  of  the  machine,  brought 
out  in  England,  some  years  ago,  for  reaping  wheat  :  nor  is  it  much 
less  ridiculous  to  see  people  going  many  miles  with  grist  to  a  mill, 
which  grist  they  might  so  easily  grind  at  home.  The  hand- 
mills,  used  in  England,  would  be  invaluable  with  you,  for  a  while, 
at  least. 

1032.  But,  it  is  of  a  mill  of  more  general  utility,  that  I  am  now 
about  to  speak  to  you  ;  and,  I  seriously  recommend  it  to  your 
consideration,  as  well  as  to  other  persons  similarly  situated. 

1033.  At  Botley  I  lived  surrounded  by  water-mills  and  wind- 
mills. There  were  eight  or  ten  within  five  miles  of  me,  and  one 
at  two  hundred  yards  from  my  house.  Still  I  thought,  that  it 
was  a  brutal  sort  of  thing  to  be  ob  iged  to  send  twice  to  a  mill, 
with  all  the  uncertainties  of  the  business,  in  order  to  have  a  sack  of 
wheat  or  of  barley  ground.  I  sent  for  a  mill-wright,  and,  after 
making  all  the  calculations,  I  resolved  to  have  a  mill  in  my  farm 
yard,  to  grind  for  myself,  and  to  sell  my  wheat  in  the  shape  of 
flour.  I  had  the  mill  erected  in  a  pretty  little  barn,  well  floored 
with  oak,  and  standing  upon  stones  with  caps  :  so  that  no  rats  or 
mice  could  annoy  me.  The  mill  was  to  be  moved  by  horses  for 
which,  to  shelter  them  from  the  wet,  I  had  a  shed  with  a  circular 
roof  erected  on  the  outside  of  the  barn.  Under  this  roof,  as  well 
as  I  recollect,  there  was  a  large  wheel,  which  the  horses  turned 
and  a  bar,  go±ng  from  that  wheel,  passed  through  into  the  barn, 
and  there  it  put  the  whole  machinery  in  motion. 

1034. 1  have  no  skill  in  mechanics.  I  do  not,  and  did  not,  know 
one  thing  from  another  by  its  name.  All  I  looked  to  was  the 
effect  :  and  this  was  complete.  I  had  excellent  flour.  All  my 
meal  was  ground  at  home.  I  was  never  bothered  with  sending 
to  the  mill.  My  ear.:-  were  never  after  dinned  with  complaints 
about  bad  flour  and  heavy  bread.  It  was  the  prettiest,  most  con- 
venient, and  most  valuable  thing  I  had  upon  my  farm.  It  was, 
I  think,  put  up  in  1816,  and  this  was  one  of  the  pleasures,  from 
which  the  Borough- villains  (God  confound  them  !)  drove  me  in 
1817.  I  think  it  cost  me  about  a  hundred  pounds.  I  forget, 
whether  I  had  sold  any  flour  from  it  to  the  Bakers.  But,  inde- 
pendent of  that  it  was  very  valuable.  I  think  we  ground  and 
dressed  about  forty  bushels  of  wheat  in  a  day  .•   and,  we  used  to 

263 


LETTER  TO 


work  at  it  on  wet  days,  and  when  we  could  not  work  in  the  fields. 
We  never  were  stopped  by  want  of  wind  or  water.  The  horses 
were  always  ready  ;  and  /  know,  that  our  grinding  was  done  at 
one  half  the  expence  at  which  it  was  done  by  the  millers. 

1035.  The  farmers  and  millers  used  to  say,  that  I  saved  nothing 
by  my  mill.  Indeed,  gain  was  not  my  object,  except  in  con- 
venience. I  hated  the  sudden  calls  for  going  to  the  mill.  They 
produced  irregularity  :  and,  besides,  the  millers  were  not  more 
honest  than  other  people.  Their  mills  contained  all  sorts  of  grain  : 
and,  in  their  confusion,  we  sometimes  got  bad  flour  from  good 
wheat  :  an  accident  that  never  happened  to  us  after  we  got  our 
own  mill.  But,  as  to  the  gain,  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from 
my  son,  informing  me,  that  the  gentleman,  a  farmer  born  and  bred, 
who  rents  my  farm  in  my  absence,  sells  no  wheat  :  that  he  grinds 
all  :  that  he  sells  flour  all  round  the  country  ;  and  that  this  flour 
is  preferred  before  that  of  the  millers.  I  was  quite  delighted  to 
hear  this  news  of  my  little  mill.  It  awakened  many  recollections  ; 
and  I  immediately  thought  of  communicating  the  facts  to  the 
public,  and  particularly  to  you. 

1036.  You  will  observe,  that  my  farm  is  situated  in  the  midst 
of  mills.  So  that,  you  may  be  sure,  the  thing  answers,  or  it 
would  not  be  carried  on.  If  it  were  not  attended  with  gain,  it 
would  not  be  put  in  motion.  I  was  convinced,  that  any  man 
might  grind  cheaper  with  a  horse-mill  than  with  a  water  or  wind- 
mill, and  now  the  fact  is  proved.  For,  observe,  the  mill  costs 
nothing  for  scite  :  it  occupies  a  very  small  space  ;  it  is  inde- 
pendent of  wind  and  water  ;  no  floods  or  gales  can  affect  it. 

1037.  Now,  then,  if  such  a  mill  be  preferable  to  wind  or  water- 
mills  in  a  place  where  both  abound,  how  useful  must  it  be  in  a 
situation  like  yours  ?  Such  a  mill  would  amply  supply  about 
three  hundred  families,  if  kept  constantly  at  work.  And  then, 
it  is  so  much  more  convenient  than  a  windmill.  A  windmill  is 
necessarily  a  most  unhandy  thing.  The  grain  has  to  be  hauled  up 
and  the  flour  let  down.  The  building  is  a  place  of  no  capacity  : 
and,  there  is  great  danger  attending  the  management  of  it.  My 
project  is  merely  a  neat,  close  barn,  standing  upon  stones  that  rats 
and  mice  cannot  creep  up.  The  waggon  comes  to  the  door, 
the  sacks  are  handed  in  and  out  ;  and  every  thing  is  so  convenient 
and  easily  performed,  that  it  is  a  pleasure  to  behold  it. 

1038.  About  the  construction  of  the  mill  I  know  nothing.  I 
know  only  the  effect,  and  that  it  is  worked  by  horses,  in  the  manner 
that  I  have  described.  I  had  no  Miller.  My  Bailiff,  whom  I  had 
made  a  Bailiff  out  of  a  Carpenter,  I  turned  into  a  Miller  ;  or, 
rather,  I  made  him  look  after  the  thing.  Any  of  the  men,  how- 
ever, could  do  the  millering  very  well.  Any  of  them  could  make 
better  flour  than  the  water  and  wind-millers  used  to  make  for  us. 
So  that  there  is  no  mystery  in  the  matter. 

1039.  This  country  abounds  in  excellent  mill-wrights.  The 
best,  I  dare  say,  in  the  world  ;   and,  if  I  were  settled  here  as  a 

264 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


farmer  in  a  large  way,  I  would  scon  have  a  little  mill,  and  send 
away  my  produce  in  flour  instead  of  wheat.  If  a  farmer  has  to 
send  frequently  to  the  mill,  (and  that  he  must  do,  if  he  have  a  great 
quantity  of  stock  and  a  large  family,)  the  very  expence  of  sending 
will  pay  for  a  mill  in  two  or  three  years. 

1040.  I  shall  be  glad  if  this  piece  of  information  should  be  of 
use  to  any  body,  and  particularly  if  it  should  be  of  any  use  in  the 
Prairies  ;  for,  God  knows,  you  will  have  plague  enough  without 
sending  to  mill,  which  is,  of  itself,  no  small  plague  even  in  a 
Christian  country.  About  the  same  strength  that  turns  a 
threshing  machine,  turned  my  mill.  I  can  give  no  information 
about  the  construction.  I  know  there  was  a  hopper  and  stones, 
and  that  the  thing  made  a  clinking  noise  like  the  water-mills,  I 
know  that  the  whole  affair  occupied  but  a  small  space.  Mv  barn 
was  about  forty  feet  long  and  eighteen  feet  wide,  and  the  mill 
stood  at  one  end  of  it.  The  man  who  made  it  for  me,  and  with 
whom  I  made  a  bargain  in  writing,  wanted  me  to  agree  to  a 
specification  of  the  thing  :■  but  I  declined  having  any  thing  to  do 
with  cogs  and  wheels,  and  persisted  in  stipulating  for  effects.  And 
these  were,  that  with  a  certain  force  of  horses,  it  was  to  make  so 
much  fine  flour  in  so  long  a  time  ;  and  this  bargain  he  very  faith- 
fully fulfilled.  The  price  was  I  think  seventy  pounds,  and  the 
putting  up  and  altogether  made  the  amount  about  a  hundred 
pounds.  There  were  no  heavy  timbers  in  any  part  of  the  thing. 
There  was  not  a  bit  of  wood,  in  any  part  of  the  construction,  so 
big  as  my  thigh.  The  whole  thing  might  have  been  carried  away, 
all  at  once,  very  conveniently,  in  one  of  my  waggons 

1041.  There  is  another  thing,  which  I  beg  leave  to  recommend 
to  your  attention  ;  and  that  is,  the  use  of  the  Broom-Corn  Stalks 
as  thatch.  The  coverings  of  barns  and  other  out-houses  with 
shingles  makes  them  fiery  hot  in  summer,  so  that  it  is  dangerous 
to  be  at  work  in  making  mows  near  them  in  very  hot  weather. 
The  heat  they  cause  in  the  upper  parts  of  houses,  though  there 
be  a  ceiling  under  them,  is  intolerable.  In  the  very  hot  weather  I 
always  bring  my  bed  down  to  the  ground-floor.  Thatch  is  cool. 
Cool  in  summer  and  warm  in  winter  Its  inconveniences  are 
danger  from  fire  and  want  of  durability.  The  former  is  no  great 
deal  greater  than  that  of  shingles .  The  latter  may  be  wholly 
removed  by  the  use  of  the  Broom-Corn  Stalks.  In  England  a 
good  thatch  of  wheat-straw  will  last  twelve  or  fifteen  years.  If 
this  straw  be  reeded,  as  they  do  it  in  the  counties  of  Dorset  and 
Devon,  it  will  last  thirty  years  ;  and  it  is  very  beautiful.  The 
little  town  of  Charmouth,  which  is  all  thatched,  is  one  of  the 
prettiest  places  I  ever  saw.  What  beautiful  thatching  might  be 
made  in  this  country,  where  the  straw  is  so  sound  and  so  clean  ! 
A  Dorsetshire  thatcher  might,  upon  this  very  island,  make  himself 
a  decent  fortune  in  a  few  years.  They  do  cover  barns  with  straw 
here  sometimes  ;  but  how  one  of  our  thatchers  would  laugh  at  the 
work  !     Let  me  digress  here,  tor  a  moment,  to  ask  you  if  you  have 

265 


LETTER  TO 


got  a  sow-spayer  ?  We  have  no  such  man  here.  What  a  loss 
arises  from  this  !  What  a  plague  it  is.  We  cannot  keep  a  whole 
farrow  of  pigs,  unless  we  breed  from  all  the  sows  !  They  go 
away  :  they  plague  us  to  death.  Many  a  man  in  England,  now 
as  poor  as  an  owlet,  would  (if  he  kept  from  the  infernal  drink) 
become  rich  here  in  a  short  time.  These  sow-gelders,  as  they  call 
them,  swarm  in  England.  Any  clown  of  a  fellow  follows  this 
calling,  which  is  hardly  two  degrees  above  rat-catching  and  mole- 
catching  :  and  yet  there  is  no  such  person  here,  where  swine  are 
so  numerous,  and  where  so  many  millions  are  fatted  for  ex- 
portation !     It  is  very  strange. 

1042.  To  return  to  the  thatching  :  Straw  is  not  so  durable  as 
one  could  wish  :  besides,  in  very  high  winds,  it  is  liable,  if  not 
reeded,  to  be  ruffed  a  good  deal  ;  and  the  reeding,  which  is  almost 
like  counting  the  straws  one  by  one,  is  expensive.  In  England 
we  sometimes  thatch  with  reeds,  which  in  Hampshire,  are  called 
spear.  This  is  an  aquatic  plant.  It  grows  in  the  water,  and  will 
grow  no  where  else.  When  stout  it  is  of  the  thickness  of  a  small 
cane  at  the  bottom,  and  is  about  four  or  five  feet  long.  I  have  seen 
a  thatch  of  it,  which,  with  a  little  patching,  had  lasted  upwards  of 
fifty  years.  In  gentlemen's  gardens,  there  are  sometimes  hedges 
or  screens  made  of  these  reeds.  They  last,  if  well  put  up,  half  a 
century,  and  are  singularly  neat,  while  they  parry  the  wind  much 
better  than  paling  or  walls,  because  there  is  no  eddy  proceeding 
from  their  repulsion.  They  are  generally  put  round  those  parts 
of  the  garden  where  the  hot-beds  are. 

1043.  Now,  the  Broom-Corn  far  surpasses  the  reeds  in  all 
respects.  I  intend,  in  my  Book  on  Gardening,  to  give  a  full  account 
of  the  applicability  of  this  plant  to  garden-uses  both  here  and  in 
England  ;  for,  as  to  the  reeds,  they  can  seldom  be  had,  and  a 
screen  of  them  comes,  in  most  parts  of  England,  to  more  money 
than  a  paling  of  oak.  But,  the  Broom-Corn  !  What  an  useful 
thing  !  What  quantities  upon  an  acre  of  land  !  Ten  feet  high, 
and  more  durable  than  reeds  !  The  seed-stems,  with  a  bit  of  the 
stem  of  the  plant,  make  the  brooms.  These,  I  hear,  are  now  sent 
to  England.  I  have  often  talked  of  it  in  England  as  a  good  traffic. 
We  here  sweep  stables  and  streets  with  what  the  English  sweep 
their  carpets  with  !  You  can  buy  as  good  a  broom  at  New  York 
for  eight  pence  sterling  as  you  can  buy  in  London  for  five  shillings 
sterling,  and  the  freight  cannot  exceed  two-pence  or  three-pence, 
if  sent  without  handles.  I  bought  a  clothes-brush,  an  English 
clothes-brush,  the  other  day  for  three  shillings  sterling.  It  was 
made  of  a  farthing's  worth  of  alder  zvood  and  of  half  a  farthing's 
worth  of  Broom-Corn.  An  excellent  brush.  Better  than  bristles.  I 
have  Broom-Corn  and  Seed-Stems  enough  to  make  fifty  thousand 
such  brushes.  I  really  think  I  shall  send  it  to  England.  It  is 
now  lying  about  my  barn,  and  the  chickens  are  living  upon  the 
seeds.  This  plant  demands  greater  heat  even  than  the  Indian 
Corn.     It  would  hardly  ripen  its  seed  in  England.     Indeed  it 

266 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


would  not.  But,  if  well  managed,  it  would  produce  a  prodigious 
crop  of  materials  for  reed-hedges  and  thatch.  It  is  of  a  sub- 
stance (I  mean  the  main  stalk)  between  that  of  a  cane  and  that  of  a 
reed.  It  has  joints  precisely  like  those  of  the  canes,  which  you 
may  have  seen  the  Boroughmongers'  sons  and  footmen  strut 
about  with,  called  bamboos.  The  seed-stalks,  which  make  the 
brooms  and  brushes,  might  not  get  so  mature  in  England  as  to  be 
so  good  as  they  are  here  for  those  uses  :  but,  I  have  no  doubt,  that, 
in  any  of  the  warm  lands  in  Surrey,  or  Kent,  or  Hampshire,  a  man 
might  raise  upon  an  acre  a  crop  worth  several  hundred  pounds. 
The  very  stout  stalks,  if  properly  harvested  and  applied,  would  last 
nearly  as  long  as  the  best  hurdle  rods.  What  beautiful  screens 
they  would  make  in  gardens  and  pleasure  grounds  !  Ten  feet 
long,  and  straight  as  a  gun  stick  !  I  shall  send  some  of  the  seed 
to  England  this  year,  and  cause  a  trial  to  be  made  ;  and  I  will, 
in  my  Gardening  Book,  give  full  instructions  for  the  cultivation. 
Of  this  book,  which  will  be  published  soon,  I  would,  if  you  lived 
in  this  world,  send  you  a  copy.  These  are  the  best  uses  of  maritime 
intercourse  :  the  interchange  of  plants,  animals,  and  improve- 
ments of  all  sorts.  I  am  doing  rny  best  to  repay  this  country  for 
the  protection  which  it  has  given  me  against  our  indemnified 
tyrants.  "  Cobbett's  pigs  and  Swedish  Turnips,"  will  be  talked 
of  long  after  the  bones  of  Ellenborough,  Gibbs,  Sidmouth, 
Castlereagh  and  Jenkinson  will  be  rotten,  and  their  names  for- 
gotten, or  only  remembered  when  my  "  trash  "  shall. 

1044.  This  is  a  rambling  sort  of  Letter.  I  now  come  back  to 
the  Broom-Corn  for  thatch.  Sow  it  in  rows  about  five  feet 
asunder  ;  or,  rather,  on  ridges,  a  foot  wide  at  the  top,  with  an 
interval  of  five  feet  :  let  the  plants  stand  all  over  this  foot  wide, 
at  about  three  inches  apart,  or  less.  Keep  the  plants  clear  of 
weeds  by  a  couple  of  weedings,  and  plough  well  between  the 
ridges  three  or  four  times  during  the  summer.  This  will  make  the 
plants  grow  tall,  while  their  closeness  to  each  other  will  make 
them  small  in  thickness  of  stem  or  stalk.  It  will  bring  them  to 
about  the  thickness  of  fine  large  reeds  in  England,  and  to  about 
twice  the  length  ;  and,  I  will  engage,  that  a  large  barn  may  be 
covered,  by  a  good  thatcher,  with  the  stalks,  in  two  days,  and  that 
the  covering  shall  last  for  fifty  3'ears.  Only  think  of  the  price  of 
shingles  and  nails  !  Only  think  of  the  cost  of  tiles  in  England  ! 
Only  think  of  the  expence  of  drawing  or  of  reeding  straw  in 
England  !  Only  think  of  going  into  the  water  to  collect  reeds  in 
England,  even  where  they  are  to  be  had  at  all,  which  is  in  a  very 
few  places  !  The  very  first  thing  that  I  would  do,  if  I  were  to 
settle  in  a  place  where  I  had  buildings  to  erect,  would  be  to  sow 
some  Broom-Corn  ;  that  is  to  say,  sow  some  roofs.  What  a  fine 
thing  this  would  be  upon  the  farms  in  England  !  What  a  con- 
venient thing  for  the  cottagers  !  Thatch  for  their  pretty  little 
houses,  for  their  styes,  for  their  fuel-house,  their  cow-shed  ;  and 
brooms  into  the  bargain  ;   for,  though  the  seed  would  not  ripen, 

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LETTER  TO 


and  though  the  broom-part  would  not  be  of  the  best  quality,  it 
would  be  a  thousand  times  better  than  heath.  The  seed  might 
be  sent  from  this  country,  and,  though  the  Borough- villains  would 
tax  it,  as  their  rapacious  system  does  EVEN  THE  SEEDS  OF 
TREES  ;  yet,  a  small  quantity  of  seed  would  suffice. 

1045.  As  an  ornamental  plant  nothing  equals  this.  The  Indian 
Corn  is  far  inferior  to  it  in  this  respect.  Planted  by  the  side  of 
walks  in  gardens,  what  beautiful  avenues  it  would  make  for  the 
summer  !  I  have  seen  the  plants  eighteen  feet  and  a  half  high. 
I  always  wanted  to  get  some  seed  in  England  ;  but,  I  never 
could.  My  friends  thought  it  too  childish  and  whimsical  a  thing 
to  attend  to.  If  the  plant  should  so  far  come  to  perfection  in 
England  as  to  yield  the  broom-materials,  it  will  be  a  great  thing  ; 
and,  if  it  fall  short  of  that,  it  will  certainly  surpass  reeds  for 
thatching  and  screening  purposes,  for  sheep-yards,  and  for 
various  other  uses.  However,  I  have  no  doubt  of  its  producing 
brooms  :  for,  the  Indian  Corn,  though  only  certain  sorts  of  it  will 
ripen  its  seed  even  in  Hampshire,  will  always  come  into  bloom, 
and,  in  the  Broom-Corn,  it  is  the  little  stalks,  or  branches,  out  of 
which  the  flower  comes,  that  makes  the  broom.  If  the  plant 
succeed  thus  far  in  England,  you  may  be  sure  that  the  Borough- 
villains  will  tax  the  brooms,  until  their  system  be  blown  to  atoms  ; 
and,  I  should  not  wonder  if  they  were  to  make  the  broom,  like 
hops,  an  article  of  excise,  and  send  their  spies  into  people's  fields 
and  gardens  to  see  that  the  revenue  was  not  "  defrauded?* 
Precious  villains  !  They  stand  between  the  people  and  all  the 
gifts  of  nature  !     But  this  cannot  last. 

1046.  I  am  happy  to  tell  you,  that  Ellenborough  and  Gibbs  have 
retired  !  Ill  health  is  the  pretence.  I  never  yet  knew  ill  health 
induce  such  fellows  to  loosen  their  grasp  of  the  public  purse. 
But,  be  it  so  :  then  I  feel  pleasure  on  that  account.  To  all  the 
other  pangs  of  body  and  mind  let  them  add  that  of  knowing,  that 
William  Cobbett,  whom  they  thought  they  had  put  down  for  ever, 
if  not  killed,  lives  to  rejoice  at  their  pains  and  their  death,  to 
trample  on  their  graves,  and  to  hand  down  their  names  for  the 
just  judgment  of  posterity.  What  !  are  these  feelings  wrong  ? 
Are  they  sinful  ?  What  defence  have  we,  then,  against  tyranny  ? 
If  the  oppressor  be  not  to  experience  the  resentment  of  the 
oppressed,  let  us  at  once  acknowledge  the  divine  right  of  tyranny  ; 
for,  what  has  tyranny  else  to  fear  ?  Who  has  it  to  fear,  but  those 
whom  it  has  injured  ?  It  is  the  aggregate  of  individual  injury 
that  makes  up  national  injury  ;  it  is  the  aggregate  of  individual 
resentment  that  makes  up  national  resentment.  National  re- 
sentment is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  producing  of  redress  for 
oppression  ;  and,  therefore,  to  say  that  individual  resentment  is 
wrong,  is  to  say,  that  there  ought  to  be  no  redress  for  oppression  : 
it  is,  in  short,  to  pass  a  sentence  of  never-ending  slavery  on  all 
mankind.  Some  Local  Militia  men  ;  young  fellows  who  had 
been  compelled  to  become  soldiers,  and  who  had  no  knowledge  of 

268 


MORRIS  BIRKBECK,  ESQ. 


military  discipline  ;  who  had,  by  the  Act  of  Parliament,  been 
promised  a  guinea  each  before  they  marched  ;  who  had  refused 
to  march  because  the  guinea  had  not  been  wholly  paid  them  :  some 
of  these  young  men,  these  mere  boys,  had,  for  this  mutiny,  as  it 
was  called,  been  flogged  at  Ely  in  Cambridgeshire,  under  a  guard 
of  German  bayonets  and  sabres.  At  this  I  expressed  my  indigna- 
tion in  the  strongest  terms  :  and,  for  doing  this,  I  was  put  for  two 
years  into  a  jail  along  with  men  convicted  of  unnatural  crimes, 
robbery,  and  under  charge  of  murder,  and  where  Astlet  was,  who 
was  under  sentence  of  death.  To  this  was  added  a  fine  of  a  thousand 
pounds  sterling  :  and,  when  the  two  years  should  expire,  bonds  for 
the  peace  and  good  behaviour  for  seven  years  !  The  seven  years 
are  not  yet  expired.  I  will  endeavour  to  be  of  "  good  behaviour  " 
for  the  short  space  that  is  to  come  ;  and,  I  am  sure,  I  have  behaved 
well  for  the  past  :  for  never  were  seven  years  of  such  efficient 
exertion  seen  in  the  life  of  any  individual. 

1047.  The  tyrants  are  hard  pushed  now.  The  Bank  Notes 
are  their  only  ground  to  stand  on  ;  and  that  ground  will  be  moved 
from  under  them  in  a  little  time.  Strange  changes  since  you  left 
England,  short  as  the  time  has  been  !  I  am  fully  of  opinion,  that 
my  four  years  which  I  gave  the  system  at  my  coming  away,  will  see 
the  end  of  it.  There  can  be  no  more  war  carried  on  by  them.  I 
see  they  have  had  Baring,  of  Loan-notoriety  at  the  Holy  Alliance- 
Congress.  He  has  been  stipulating  for  a  supply  of  paper-money. 
They  should  have  got  my  consent  to  let  the  paper-money  remain  ; 
for,  /  can  destroy  it  whenever  I  please.  All  sorts  of  projects  are  on 
foot.  "  Inimitable  Notes  "  ;  paying  in  specie  by  weight  of  metal. 
Oh  !  the  wondrous  fools  !  A  sudden  blow-up  ;  or,  a  blow-up 
somewhat  slow,  by  ruin  and  starvation  ;  one  of  these  must  come  : 
unless  they  speedily  reduce  the  interest  of  the  Debt  :  and  even  that 
will  not  save  the  seat-dealers. 

1048.  In  the  meanwhile  let  us  enjoy  ourselves  here  amongst  this 
kind  and  hospitable  people  ;  but,  let  us  never  forget,  that  England 
is  our  country,  and  that  her  freedom  and  renown  ought  to  be  as 
dear  to  us  as  the  blood  in  our  veins.  God  bless  you,  and  give  you 
health  and  happiness. 


Wm.  COBBETT. 


269 


POSTSCRIPT 


RUTA  BAGA  ;   or,  SWEDISH  TURNIP. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Neze  York  Evening  Post. 

Hyde  Park,   Long-Island, 
2d.  Jan.  i8ig. 
Sir, 

1049.  My  publications  of  last  year,  on  the  amount  of  the  crops 
of  Ruta  Baga,  were,  by  many  persons,  considered  romantic  : 
or,  at  best,  a  good  deal  strained.  I  am  happy,  therefore,  to  be  able 
to  communicate  to  the  public,  through  your  obliging  columns, 
a  letter  from  an  American  farmer  on  the  subject.  You  may  re- 
member, if  you  did  me  the  honour  to  read  my  Treatise  on  the 
cultivation  of  this  root  (in  Part  I.  of  the  Year's  Residence),  that  I 
carried  the  amount  of  my  best  Botley-crops  no  higher  than  one 
thousand  three  hundred  bushels  to  the  acre.  The  following 
interesting  letter  will,  I  think,  convince  every  one,  that  I  kept, 
in  all  my  statements,  below  the  mark.  Here  we  have  an  average 
weight  of  roots  of  six  pounds  and  a  half. 

1050.  I  beg  Mr.  Townsend  to  accept  of  my  best  thanks  for 
his  letter,  which  has  given  me  very  great  satisfaction,  and  which 
will,  I  am  sure,  be  of  great  use  in  promoting  the  cultivation  of  this 
valuable  root. 

1 05 1.  Many  gentlemen  have  written  to  me  with  regard  to  the 
mode  of  preserving  the  Ruta  Baga.  I  have,  in  the  SECOND 
PART  of  my  Year's  Residence,  which  will  be  published  at  New 
York,  in  a  few  days,  given  a  very  full  account  of  this  matter. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  most  humble 

And  most  obedient  servant, 

Wm.  cobbett 


270 


"OsrscRipr 


New    York,  Dec.  30,   181 8. 
Dear  Sir, 

1052.  I  take  the  liberty  of  sending  to  you  the  following  experi- 
ments upon  the  culture  of  your  Ruta  Baga,  made  by  my  uncle, 
Isaac  Townsend,  Esq.,  of  Orange  county,  in  this  state.  The 
seeds  were  procured  from  your  stock,  and  the  experiments,  I 
think,  will  tend  to  corroborate  the  sentiments  which  you  have  so 
laudably  and  so  successfully  inculcated  on  the  subject  of  this 
interesting  article  of  agriculture. 

1053.  A  piece  of  strong  dry  loam  ten  feet  square  on  the  N.  E. 
side  of  a  mountain  in  Moreau  township,  Orange  county,  was 
thoroughly  cleared  of  stones,  and  dug  up  twelve  inches  deep,  on 
the  10th  of  June  last ;  it  was  then  covered  by  a  mixture  of  ten 
bushels  of  charcoal  dust  and  twenty  bushels  of  black  swamp 
mould,  which  was  well  harrowed  in.  About  the  oth  of  July  it 
was  sown  with  your  Ruta  Baga  in  drills  of  twenty  inches  apart, 
the  turnips  being  ten  inches  distant  from  each  other.  They  came 
up  badly  and  were  weeded  out  on  the  10th  of  August.  On  the 
15th  of  August  a  table-spoonful  of  ashes  was  put  round  every 
turnip,  which  operation  was  repeated  on  the  20th  of  September. 
The  ground  was  kept  perfectly  clean  through  the  whole  season. 
Six  seeds  of  the  common  turnip  were  by  accident  dropped  into 
the  patch,  and  received  the  same  attention  as  the  rest.  These 
common  turnips  weighed  two  pounds  a  piece.  The  whole  yield 
of  the  Ruta  Baga  was  three  bushels,  each  turnip  weighing  from 
four  to  eight  pounds.  The  roots  penetrated  about  twelve  inches 
into  the  ground,  although  the  season  was  remarkably  dry. 

1054.  A  piece  of  rich,  moist,  loamy  land,  containing  four  square 
rods,  was  ploughed  twice  in  June,  and  the  seeds  of  your  Ruta 
Baga  sown  on  the  4th  of  July  in  broad  cast,  and  kept  clean  through 
the  season.  This  patch  produced  twenty-five  bushels  of  turnips, 
each  turnip  weighing  from  four  to  nine  pounds.  This,  you 
perceive,  is  at  the  enormous  rate  of  1000  bushels  an  acre  ! 

1055.  It  is  Mr.  Townsend's  opinion,  that  on  some  of  the  soils 
of  Orange  County  your  Ruta  Baga  may  be  made  to  yield  1500 
bushels  an  acre. 

I  remain,  with  much  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

P.  S.  TOWNSEND. 

William  Cobbett,  Esq. 


Hyde  Park,  Long  Island. 


SECOND  POSTSCRIPT 


Sir, 


FEARON'S  FALSEHOODS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  National  Advocate. 

Hyde  Park,  Jan.  gth,  1819. 


1056.  Before  I  saw  your  paper  of  the  day  before  yesterday, 
giving  some  extracts  from  a  book  published  in  England  by  one 
Fearon,  I  had  written  part  of  the  following  article,  and  had  pre- 
pared to  send  it  home  as  part  of  a  Register,  of  which  I  send  one 
every  week.  Your  paper  enabled  me  to  make  an  addition  to  the 
article  ;  and,  in  the  few  words  below,  I  have  this  day  sent  the 
whole  off  to  be  published  in  London.  If  you  think  it  worth 
inserting,  I  beg  you  to  have  the  goodness  to  give  it  a  place  ;  and 
I  beg  the  same  favour  at  the  hands  of  all  those  editors  who  may 
have  published  Fearon's  account  of  what  he  calls  Ms  visit  to  me. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient, 

And  most  humble  servant, 

Wm.  COBBETT. 

1057.  There  is,  I  am  told,  one  Fearon,  who  has  gone  home  and 
written  and  published  a  book,  abusing  this  country  and  its  people 
in  the  grossest  manner.  I  only  hear  of  it  by  letter.  I  hear,  also, 
that  he  speaks  of  me  as  if  he  knew  me.  I  will  tell  you  how  far  he 
knew  me  :  I  live  at  a  country  house  20  miles  from  New  York. 
One  morning,  in  the  summer  of  18 17,  a  young  man  came  into  the 
hall,  and  introduced  himself  to  me  under  the  name  of  Fearon. 
The  following  I  find  about  him  in  my  journal  : — "  A  Mr.  Fearon 

272 


SECOND  POSTSCRIPT 


"  came  this  morning  and  had  breakfast  with  us.  Told  us  an 
"  odd  story  about  having  slept  in  a  black  woman's  hut  last  night 
"  for  sixpence,  though  there  are  excellent  taverns  at  every  two 
"  miles  along  the  road.  Toid  us  a  still  odder  story  about  his 
"  being  an  envoy  from  a  host  of  families  in  London,  to  look  out 
"  for  a  place  of  settlement  in  America  ;  but  he  took  special  care 
"  not  to  name  any  one  of  those  families,  though  we  asked  him  to  do 
"  it.  We  took  him,  at  first,  for  a  sort  of  spy.  William  thinks  he 
"  is  a  shopkeeper's  clerk  ;  I  think  he  has  been  a  tailor.  I  observed 
"  that  he  carried  his  elbow  close  to  his  sides,  and  his  arms,  below 
"  the  elbow,  in  a  horizontal  position.  It  came  out  that  he  had 
"  been  with  Buchanan,  Castlereagh's  consul  at  New  York  ;  but 
"  it  is  too  ridiculous  ;  such  a  thing  as  this  cannot  be  a  spy  ;  he 
"  can  get  access  no  where  but  to  taverns  and  boarding  houses." 

1058.  This  note  now  stands  in  my  journal  or  diary  of  22nd 
August,  1 8 17.  I  remember  that  he  asked  me  some  very  silly 
questions  about  the  prices  of  land,  cattle,  and  other  things,  which 
I  answered  very  shortly.  He  asked  my  advice  about  the  families 
emigrating,  and  the  very  words  I  uttered  in  answer,  were  these  : 
"  Every  thing  I  can  say,  in  such  a  case,  is  to  discourage  the  enter- 
"  prize.  If  Englishmen  come  here,  let  them  come  individually, 
"  and  sit  down  amongst  the  natives  :  no  other  plan  is  rational." 

1059.  What  I  have  heard  of  this  man  since,  is,  that  he  spent  his 
time,  or  great  part  of  it,  in  New  York,  amongst  the  idle  and  dis- 
solute young  Englishmen,  whose  laziness  and  extravagance  had 
put  them  in  a  state  to  make  them  uneasy,  and  to  make  them  un- 
noticed by  respectable  people.  That  country  must  be  bad,  to 
be  sure,  which  would  not  give  them  ease  and  abundance  without 
labour  or  economy. 

1060.  Now,  what  can  such  a  man  know  of  America  ?  He  has 
not  kept  house  ;  he  has  had  no  being  in  any  neighbourhood  ;  he 
has  never  had  any  circle  of  acquaintances  amongst  the  people  ; 
he  has  never  been  a  guest  under  any  of  their  roofs  ;  he  knows 
nothing  of  their  manners  or  their  characters  ;  and  how  can  such 
a  man  be  a  judge  of  the  effects  of  their  institutions,  civil,  political, 
or  religious  ? 

1 06 1.  I  have  no  doubt,  however,  that  the  reviews  and  news- 
papers, in  the  pay  of  the  Boroughmongers,  will  do  their  best  to 
propagate  the  falsehoods  contained  in  this  man's  book.  But 
what  would  you  say  of  the  people  of  America,  if  they  were  to 
affect  to  believe  what  the  French  General  said  of  the  people  of 
England  ?  This  man,  in  a  book  which  he  published  in  France, 
said,  that  all  the  English  married  women  got  drunk,  and  swore 
like  troopers  ;  and  that  all  the  young  women  were  strumpets,  and 
that  the  greater  part  of  them  had  bastards  before  they  were  married. 
Now,  if  the  people  of  America  were  to  affect  to  believe  this,  what 
should  we  say  of  them  ?  Yet,  this  is  just  as  true  as  this  Fearon's 
account  of  the  people  of  America. 

1062.  As  to  the  facts  of  this  man's  visit  to  me,  my  son  William, 

273 


SECOND  POSTSCRIPT 


who  is,  by  this  time,  in  London,  can  and  will  vouch  for  their  truth 
at  any  time,  and,  if  necessary,  to  Fearon's  face,  if  Fearon  has  a 
face  which  he  dares  show. 

1063.  Since  writing  the  above,  the  New  York  papers  have 
brought  me  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Fearon's  performance.  I  shall 
notice  only  his  account  of  his  visit  to  me.  It  is  in  the  following 
words  : 

1064.  "  A  Visit  to  Mr.  Cobbett. — Upon  arriving  at  Mr.  Cobbett's 
"  gate,  my  feelings,  in  walking  along  the  path  which  led  to  the 
"  residence  of  this  celebrated  man  are  difficult  to  describe.  The 
"  idea  of  a  person  self-banished,  leading  an  isolated  life  in  a 
"  foreign  land  ;  a  path  rarely  trod,  fences  in  ruins,  the  gate  broken, 
"  a  house  mouldering  to  decay,  added  to  much  awkwardness  of 
"  feeling  on  my  part,  calling  upon  an  entire  stranger,  produced 
"  in  my  mind  feelings  of  though tfulness  and  melancholy.  I 
"  would  fain  almost  have  returned  without  entering  the  wooden 
"  mansion,  imagining  that  its  possessor  would  exclaim,  '  What 
"  '  intruding  fellow  is  here  coming  to  break  in  upon  my  pursuits?' 
cc  But  these  difficulties  ceased  almost  with  their  existence.  A 
' '  female  servant  (an  English  woman)  informed  me  that  her  master 
"  was  from  home,  attending  at  the  county  court.  Her  language 
"  was  natural  enough  for  a  person  in  her  situation  ;  she  pressed 
"  me  to  walk  in,  being  quite  certain  that  I  was  her  countryman  : 
"  and  she  was  so  delighted  to  see  an  Englishman,  instead  of  those 
"  nasty  guessing  Yankees.  Following  my  guide  through  the 
"  kitchen,  (the  floor  of  which,  she  asserted,  was  imbedded  with 
'*  two  feet  of  dirt  when  Mr.  Cobbett  came  there) — (it  had  been  pre- 
"  viously  in  the  occupation  of  Americans)  I  was  conducted  to  a 
"  front  parlour,  which  contained  but  a  single  chair  and  several 
"  trunks  of  sea-clothes.  Mr.  Cobbett's  first  question  on  seeing 
"  me  was,  c  Are  you  an  American,  sir  ?'  then,  '  What  were  my 
"  '  objects  in  the  United  States  ?  Was  I  acquainted  with  the 
"  '  friends  of  liberty  in  London  ?  How  long  had  I  left  ?  '  &c. 
"  He  was  immediately  familiar.  I  was  pleasingly  disappointed 
"  with  the  general  tone  of  his  manners.  Mr.  Cobbett  thinks 
"  meanly  of  the  American  people,  but  spoke  highly  of  the  economy 
"  of  their  government. — He  does  not  advise  persons  in  respectable 
"  circumstances  to  emigrate,  even  in  the  present  state  of  England. 
"  In  his  opinion  a  family  who  can  barely  live  upon  their  property, 
"  will  more  consult  their  happiness  by  not  removing  to  the  United 
"  States.  He  almost  laughs  at  Mr.  Birkbeck's  settling  in  the 
"  western  country.  This  being  the  first  time  I  had  seen  this  well- 
"  known  character,  I  viewed  him  with  no  ordinary  degree  of 
"  interest.  A  print  by  Bartolozzi,  executed  in  1801,  conveys  a 
"  correct  outline  of  his  person.  His  eyes  are  small,  and  pleasingly 
"  good  natured.  To  a  French  gentleman  present,  he  was  atten- 
"  tive  ;  with  his  sons,  familiar  ;  to  his  servants,  easy  ;  but  to  all, 
"  in  his  tone  and  manner,  resolute  and  determined.  He  feels  no 
"  hesitation  in  praising  himself,  and  evidently  believes  that  he  is 

274 


SECOND  POSTSCRIPT 


"  eventually  destined  to  be  the  Atlas  of  the  British  nation.  His 
"  faculty  of  relating  anecdotes  is  amusing.  Instances  when  we 
"  meet.  My  impressions  of  Mr.  Cobbett  are,  that  those  who 
"  know  him  would  like  him,  if  they  can  be  content  to  submit 
"  unconditionally  to  his  dictation.  '  Obey  me,  and  I  will  treat 
"  'you  kindly  ;  if  you  do  not,  I  will  trample  on  you,'  seemed 
"  visible  in  every  word  and  feature.  He  appears  to  feel,  in  its 
"  fullest  force,  the  sentiment, 

'I  have  no  brother,   am  like  no  brother: 
'I  am  myself  alone.'  " 

1065.  It  is  unlucky  for  this  blade,  that  the  parties  are  alive. 
First — let  the  "  English  woman  "  speak  for  herself,  which  she  does, 
in  these  words  : 

1066.  I  remembr; ,  that,  about  a  week  after  I  came  to  Hyde 
Park,  in  1817,  a  man  came  to  the  house  in  the  evening,  when  Mr. 
Cobbett  was  out,  and  that  he  came  again  the  next  morning.  I 
never  knew,  or  asked,  what  countryman  he  was.  He  came  to 
the  back  door.  I  first  gave  him  a  chair  in  a  back-room  ;  but,  as 
he  was  a  slippery-looking  young  man,  and  as  it  was  growing  late, 
my  husband  thought  it  was  best  to  bring  him  down  into  the 
kitchen,  where  he  staid  till  he  went  away.  I  had  no  talk  with 
him.  I  could  not  know  what  condition  Mr.  Cobbett  found  the 
house  in,  for  I  did  not  come  here  'till  the  middle  of  August.  I 
never  heard  whether  the  gentleman  that  lived  here  before  Mr. 
Cobbett,  was  an  American,  or  not.  I  never  in  my  life  said  a  word 
against  the  people  or  the  country  :  I  am  very  glad  I  came  to  it  ; 
I  am  doing  very  well  in  it  ;  and  have  found  as  good  and  kind 
friends  amongst  the  Americans,  as  I  ever  had  in  all  my  life. 

Mary  Ann  Churcher. 
Hyde  Park, 
8th  January,  1819. 

1067.  Mrs.  Churcher  puts  me  in  mind,  that  I  asked  her  what 
sort  of  a  looking  man  it  was,  and  that  she  said  he  looked  like  an 
Exciseman,  and  that  Churcher  exclaimed  :  "  Why,  you  fool, 
"  they  don't  have  any  Excisemen  and  such  fellows  here  !  " — I 
never  was  at  a  county  court  in  America  in  my  life.  I  was  out 
shooting.  As  to  the  house,  it  is  a  better  one  than  he  ever  entered, 
except  as  a  lodger  or  a  servant,  or  to  carry  home  work.  The  path, 
so  far  from  being  trackless,  was  as  beaten  as  the  highway. — The 
gentleman  who  lived  here  before  me  was  an  Englishman,  whose 
name  was  Crow.  But  only  think  of  dirt,  two  feet  deep,  in  a  kitchen  ! 
All  is  false. — The  house  was  built  by  Judge  Ludlow.  It  is  large, 
and  very  sound  and  commodious.  The  avenues  of  trees  before 
it  the  most  beautiful  that  I  ever  saw.  The  orchard,  the  fine  shade 
and  fine  grass  all  about  the  house  ;  the  abundant  garden,  the 
beautiful  turnip  field  ;  the  whole  a  subject  worthy  of  admiration, 

375 


SECOND   POSTSCRIPT 


and  not  a  single  draw-back.  A  hearty,  unostentatious  welcome 
from  me  and  my  sons.  A  breakfast  such,  probably,  as  the  fellow 
will  never  eat  again. — I  leave  the  public  to  guess,  whether  it 
be  likely,  that  I  should  give  a  chap  like  this  my  opinions  about 
government  or  people  I  Just  as  if  I  did  not  know  the  people. 
Just  as  if  they  were  new  to  me  !  The  man  was  not  in 
the  house  half  an  hour  in  the  morning.  Judge,  then,  what 
he  could  know  of  my  manners  and  character.  He  was  a  long  time 
afterwards  at  New  York.  Would  he  not  have  been  here  a  second 
time,  if  I  had  been  familiar  enough  to  relate  anecdotes  to  him  ? 
Such  blades  are  not  backward  in  renewing  their  visits  whenever 
they  get  but  a  little  encouragement. — He,  in  another  part  of  the 
extracts  that  I  have  seen,  complains  of  the  reserve  of  the  American 
ladies.  No  "  social  intercourse"  he  says  between  the  sexes.  That 
is  to  say,  he  could  find  none  !  I'll  engage  he  could  not  ;  amongst 
the  whites,  at  least.  It  is  hardly  possible  foi>m.e  to  talk  about  the 
public  affairs  of  England  and  not  to  talk  of  some  of  my  own  acts  ; 
but  is  it  not  monstrous  to  suppose,  that  I  should  praise  myself, 
and  show  that  I  believed  myself  destined  to  be  the  Atlas  of  the 
British  nation,  in  my  conversation  of  a  few  minutes  v/ith  an  utter 
stranger,  and  that,  too,  a  blade  whom  I  took  for  a  decent  tailor, 
my  son  William  for  a  shop-keeper's  clerk,  and  Mrs.  Churcher, 
with  less  charity,  for  a  slippery  young  man,  or,  at  best,  for  an 
Exciseman  ? — As  I  said  before,  such  a  man  can  know  nothing  of 
the  people  of  America.  He  has  no  channel  through  which  to  get 
at  them.  And,  indeed,  why  should  he  !  Can  he  go  into  the 
families  of  people  at  home  !  Not  he,  indeed,  beyond  his  own  low 
circle.  Why  should  he  do  it  here,  then  ?  Did  he  think  he  was 
coming  here  to  live  at  free  quarter  ?  The  black  woman's  hut, 
indeed,  he  might  force  himself  into  with  impunity  ;  sixpence 
would  insure  him  a  reception  there  ;  but,  it  would  be  a  shame, 
indeed,  if  such  a  man  could  be  admitted  to  unreserved  intercourse 
with  American  ladies.  Slippery  as  he  was,  he  could  not  slide  into 
their  good  graces,  and  into  the  possession  of  their  fathers'  soul- 
subduing  dollars  ;  and  so  he  is  gone  home  to  curse  the  "  nasty 
"  guessing  Americans." 


Wm.  cobbett. 


University  of 
Connecticut 

Libraries 


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